


To be a father

by Tiredteengaer



Series: Dick Grayson is baby [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crying Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Feels, Dick Grayson is Robin, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Dick Grayson-centric, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Dick Grayson, Young Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiredteengaer/pseuds/Tiredteengaer
Summary: Bruce Wayne is many things.He's an orphan.A traumatised boy who since the murder of his parents has then grew up into an angry man with too many issues to count.To the public eye, Bruce Wayne is a brilliant buisness man, compassionate and hard-working but he is also a playboy, an airhead, just another rich boy lost in his own bubble.In private, Bruce Wayne is the caped crusader, the dark knight, the protector of the innocent.To the people closest to him, he's a hardass, stubbornly set in his ways and relentlessly hard working.Bruce Wayne is many things.A father is not one of them.Or at least that's what he tells himself.~~~Everyone knows Bruce Wayne is a father. Except Bruce Wayne.He'll catch on eventually.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Dick Grayson is baby [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761397
Comments: 67
Kudos: 316





	1. Selina

Selina stretched luxuriously, mischievously poking her cold toe at Bruce's calf, grinning as the man grunted in annoyance and pulled his leg away, throwing a disgruntled look over his shoulder as he turned away from her.

Giggling, she trailed after him, her shoulder sinking into the ridiculously soft mattress as she slid her arm across his bare chest, lightly sticking her nails into the skin. 

With a groan, Bruce covered her hand with his rougher and larger one and gently pulled it away. 'Please go to sleep.....'

'I'm a cat. I'm suppose to be nocturnal. And you're a bat. Where's the logic of going to sleep?'

'Cats are naturally lazy creatures. They usually sleep for hours. Please follow their example.'

Selina rolled her eyes in annoyance and propped herself up on an elbow, leaning over to kiss his ear and continuing to leave trails of kitten kisses all the way to his shoulder. Despite clearly enjoying it, the man rolled his head in annoyance. 'Selina, please.... I have an early day tomorrow.'

'You should have thought of that before you invited me here to stay over.'

'I didn't. You followed me.'

'Hasn't your strict butler taught you to be courteous to your guests?'

'He did. But he also taught me the importance of sleep.' 

Unwillingly, she snorted. Despite being literally the stoniest and expressionless person to ever exist, he could be surprisingly funny. With a tinkling laugh, she gripped his bicep and tugged him towards her until he begrudgingly turned and then nuzzled into his neck when he sleepily wrapped his arms around her. 

'Why are you so persistent? A child is better behaved then you.'

'Oh, you wanna talk about behaving da-'

'Nope. We're not going to do that again. I told you I'm not in to that.'

'Hmm....baby.' she sighed, surprisingly relaxed. Much more then she'd been for a while. She'd missed this. The bat might be secretive and hard to catch but she had more luck then anyone else in getting time with him. But he'd seemed to be avoiding her lately. She hadn't really seen him for two months. She said so now. 'Oh, come on. I haven't seen you in weeks. Sue me for trying to get more time with you before you pull your disappearing act again.'

'Hmm. I missed you too by the way.'

'And people say you're not expressive enough.' she teased, ignoring the way her heart squeezed happily at his light smirk. 'So now that I've got you trapped here, mind telling me why you've been so absent?'

'What do you mean?'

'Really? Playing the dumb card? I haven't seen you for months. And I know you weren't injured or healing from a near death experience, so what's up? What's got you so busy?'

'Work.'

'Yeah right. What's up with the secrecy?' she kissed his collarbone and whispered into his neck, 'There's not another woman, right?'

Immediately, the arm around him tightened and Bruce furiously whispered, 'Selina-'

Before he could continue, the door to the master bedroom slowly pushed open and a tiny voice filtered over to them, calling out a meek, 'Bruce??' 

Jerking back in surprise, she scrambled in to a sitting position, pulling the blanket up to her chest to hide the fact that her upperbody was _very_ naked. She stared with wide eyes at the _child_ dressed in baby blue pyjamas, mirroring her shocked and horrified expressions. 

_'Who's that?'_ She exclaimed loudly, her surprise taking over her usual controls and manners as she pointed aggravatingly at the child.

In hindsight, it was a bad move. The childgaave her a frightened look (and it was only now that she noticed the puffiness of his eyes and the glittery tear tracks and wow, didn't that make her feel like an asshole) before he promptly dumped the pillow he'd been carrying, squeaked out a 'sorry' and turned on his feet and ran away.

'Bruce-' she started, still gaping at the now empty door and the fact that she could hear the patter of tiny feet running away-

'Give me a minute.' he replied distractedly, all traces of sleep gone as he pushed the duvet off himself and took large and quick strides to the door to follow the boy.

Selina stared after his retreating from, muffled voices carrying from the hallway and she could vaguely hear Bruce calling out, 'Dick!' That was what finally snapped her out of her shocked trance because it didn't matter who the man was and it didn't matter that she was a literal criminal, there was no way she was going to let him utter such foul words in the presence of that innocent looking child.

Whoever he was.

Her mind ran a a million miles a minute as she struggled against the duvet that had somehow managed to roll and trap her. Who was that child? Where had he come from? Why was he here? Did Bruce kidnap him? Is that why she hadn't seen him in over two month? He'd been tending to a child that hadn't been there the last time she was here and _wow_ this was overwhelmingly confusing-

She finally managed to stumble away from the bed with a grace far from her cat persona and quietly crept to the door but stopped and found herself hesitating. The child hadn't exactly taken well to her, he'd darted away faster then a race car when he'd spotted her and Bruce was being much more secretive and....weird then usual.

There was clearly something here she was missing.

Quietly, she poked her head out in to the hall, leaning forward on her toes so as to do so and was momentarily awestruck by how beautifully and ominously the moon light lit up the expensive hallway before her eyes were drawn to the two figures to the far left. She craned her neck and spotted the child again, although now she could only see a tuft of black hair and the way he was nervously wringing his hands. In front of him, back to her, Bruce was crouched and his large hands were holding the boy's thin arms, body lax and hair slightly messy from their....activities earlier.

She crooked her head in their direction, willing her sharp ears to pick up what they were talking about. From the scene in front of her, any fear that Bruce was a kidnapper had been waved away, though she was still reeling from his use of the profanity in the child's presence. If she didn't know better, she'd think he'd been _directing_ it at him. And that simply won't do. She might be a rascal and enjoyed trouble, but you just don't mess around with kids. Even though she might kind of find it funny to hear an adult purposely teach a child a swear word but this particular one made her uneasy. He looked so innocent and vulnerable. Plus, he was tiny. He had to be about six or something. That was too young to miss with kids. At least wait till they're nine or ten.

She was getting distracted. Shaking her head to rid her mind of her wandering thoughts, she craned her ears until she could actually pick up on their conversation, momentarily wishing she could sneak into the cave and use one of the bat's many toys to eavesdrop.

'Didn't mean to- should've knocked-'

'....'s okay.'

'-orry...'

'-not mad..... wrong?'

She frowned at the disjointed conversation, only being able to pick up some words from the mutters and mumbles. Curiousoty got the better of her and she stepped back into the room to hurriedly pull on a random shirt from Bruce's closet, fumbling to button up. No need to traumatise the child more then he already had been-

Oh god, had Bruce gone after him naked? Dear lord- 

One quick glance out the door had her relaxing as she spotted the grey sweatpants. She'd forgotten he'd put them on after their session. Apparently, he was too proper to sleep naked.

What a weird man.

Now considerably 'decent', she stepped out into the hallway, keeping her steps feather light as she approached the pair, stopping just far away so as not to make the boy nervous but close enough to hear the conversation clearly. Up close, she could see how the child had a vice like grip on her boyfriend's bicep and how his lip was wobbling from barely constrained sobs. 

Bruce's kind rumbly voice carried over to her, 'Was it a nightmare? Is that why you're upset?'

The boy sniffled and if possible, his head ducked lower. Surprisingly, she felt her heart clench painfully at how....pained he sounded as he tried to explain. 'I...I tried to go to sleep. But I couldn't- I mean, they...I kept seeing them.' he finished lamely and she realised with a start that he had an accent that she hadn't noticed before. It was thick and his words were rolled in a peculiar way and with the wobbling voice, he was pulling maternal feelings out of her she didn't even know she possessed.

To her surprise, it seemed she wasn't the only one. She watched as Bruce's large hands reached up to the boy's face and swiped at a stray tear drop skittering down his cheek as he continued talking in that soothing rumble. 'Ssh. I'm sorry kiddo. I'm here. You don't have to hide from me, I told you you're welcome to stay with me if you're upset or scared.' 

At that, the child stepped closer to the man, his eyes darting rapidly over to where Selina stood and she felt herself coil back at how....strikingly blue his eyes were. She hadn't realised he had known she was there. Observing him, she could see the same nervousness in his expression as she'd noticed back in the bedroom. 'I didn't wanna bother you...' he finally mumbled in response and she swore she _saw_ Bruce soften.

'You're never a bother.' Bruce consoled automatically, in a way that told her he'd done the same many times before. 'Come here, chum.' 

Then, to her utter shock, Bruce Wayne held his hands out in the universal gesture of a hug.

And to her even bigger shock, the child gladly threw himself in the man's arms and she watched as he _nestled_ into him and and tightly wound his scrawny arms and legs around the man's broad frame in a firm hug.

She must be getting delusional. The big bat was now standing up from his crouched position with a tiny child wrapped in his arms and a gentle hand weaving through the mess of black curls on the boy's head with the ease and familiarity of a man who did this quite frequently. The big bat had not only initiated physical touch but was also not recoiling from it as if it was hot coal.

Maybe she's high. She's not really the type for weed but maybe she got stuck with the wrong crowd.

Because she swore the next words that the dark knight spoke into the boy's ear was, 'Let's get you back in bed, Dickie.'

He sounded so gentle. So kind. So....

So domestic.

Fatherly almost.

She didn't hear what the boy responded but she did see him furiously shake his head and his arms tighten and okay, there was a lot going on in front of her.

Jesus, what the hell had she missed in two months?

In the same soft and rumbling voice she'd heard him use with traumatised victims, he soothed the worked up kid in his arms. 'Alright, you don't have to go back to bed alone. You can stay with me. But you have to go back to sleep. It's way past your bed-' he took this moment to turn around and finally lock eyes with Selina's saucer like ones. '-time.'

_Bed time?_

For a few seconds, the two stared at each other, her eyes ranging with a million questions and his frustratingly blank. Then, with a half assed shrug and a resigned look, he began to walk down the large hallway to the opposite end, where it ended with a huge window through which the moon light was filtering through. As he passed Selina, she heard the boy gloomily whisper, 'Don't wanna sleep.'

'You have to. You need your sleep.'

'I wanna stay with you...'

'I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.' she saw his biceps flex slightly as he squeezed the boy comfortingly. 'No one will hurt you.' 

Selina didn't really know exactly how long she stood there, mind racing through a million thoughts that were so complicated it made her feel almost numb. Her head followed Bruce's pacing from one end of the hallway to the other. She listened to the continuous gentle comforts and watched as his large hands brushed the back of the boy's head with incredulously gentle rubs and scratches. The child didn't shy away from the man, instead leaning comfortably against him and continuing to hide his little face in his neck, leaving his lips to be the only part of his face she could truly see. She heard the great grandfather clock somewhere in the house dime loudly at one point as slowly, the kid's body uncoiled and sagged against Bruce's broad chest, his arms and legs loosening and going from tightly wound to comfortably draped over the man's arms and shoulders. Clearly, his worries and frights had been soothed enough to put him to sleep.

By Bruce.

Batman.

Her boyfriend.

Her emotionally stunted, extremely disciplined and stern, incapable of looking after himself boyfriend.

She had _a lot_ of questions. She also had a headache.

Which was something the man had clearly picked up on because he continued prancing long after the child had dozed off on his shoulder, effectively avoiding her eye.

That was fine. Bruce Wayne might be the king of secrecy but she was the queen of pettiness (and elusive mystery but she felt as if they both tied on that category). She wasn't going to break the silence but she sure as hell was not going to let him slip away with no explanation. She'd been much more patient then what was to be expected of her.

Eventually, he seemed to realise he could avoid her no longer and came to a stop in front of her, his eyes fixed atop her head as his left hand continued rubbing small circles on the boy's back, crumpling his neat blue pyjamas. 'You can sleep in here. I'll take him to a spare bedroom-'

'Heh, nope. You're not avoiding me that easily.'

'Selina-'

'If you think you can avoid my questions by running away and hiding somewhere in the manor, think again. I want answers Bruce and I'm going to follow you around until you give them to me. And if you avoid me and go off to work in the morning without giving me details, I'll just wait for Alfred to make a nice cup of tea and ask him for details before showing up at your work and making a huge scene of accusing you of cheating.'

'I didn't cheat on you.'

'No duh, but we all know the tabloids wouldn't care enough to confirm that and would just have a field day writing you off as a playboy _and a cheater_ .' she smirked and leant her hip against a decorative table as she regarded his ruffled feathers with barely hidden glee. 'Lead the way to whatever bedroom you're taking the child in. I'm following.'

He glared at her. She glared right back.

He'd never been able to sway her when she'd set her mind on something. Alfred had often said that the two were a stubborn match made in heaven. 

Her stubbornness sometimes made him pity those who had to deal with his.

Breaking the glaring contest, he let out a defeated sigh and defeatedly muttered. 'Fine, if you're going to be persistent, I might as well get him settled in the bedroom. He's calmer there.' Without another word, he marched towards the open door way and Selina followed him, her steps halting and her heart constricting at the adorable sight of the child's head lolling on his shoulder. It was a cute sight. The boy was cute.

This all was cute.

And also very confusing. And slightly disturbing as she was still unsure what exactly had bought these two together but....

Still cute.

She followed Bruce into the bedroom and watched him perch on the previously vacated bed. A glance at the digital clock on the bedside table told her that a half hour had passed since she'd been teasingly leaving chaste kisses on his collar bone. Now, she watched silently as he carefully peeled the boy away from him, surprised when the boy began to fuss in his sleep, twisting and turning in a disgruntled manner and occasionally whining. Before he could wake up though, Bruce laid him in the middle of the bed and gently brushed his fringe away from his forehead before leaving his hand to rest there and the child stilled and relaxed, settling down comfortably as he curled into Bruce's side.

This was all strangely domestic.

Now that he was no longer hidden away in Bruce's chest or running away from her, she stepped closer to get a closer look and was surprised by the details she'd missed. For one, his skin was much darker then she'd first perceived, when she'd been too overcome with shock at the fact that there was a tiny child at Wayne manor to focus on anything else. The next thing she noticed was that his hair was quite long, despite the curls, and they flopped messily over his eyes and cheeks. She noticed a cute button nose and her hand twitched when she noted the chubby cheeks that were still tinted and still had dried tear tracks sticking to them. As she watched, the boy nuzzled into Bruce's side, his legs pulled close to his chest as he puffed out small breaths.

In short, he was adorable.

In detail, she still had no clue who he was. And she was getting a little sick of referring to him as the 'boy' and the 'child'.

'Bruce.' she began, her voice calm despite the storm raging inside of her. 'What the hell?'

He actually had the audacity to frown at her. 'Don't curse.' he admonished and she let out an incredulous snort. At the loud voice, the boy stirred and both adults tensed until he settled back down with a tiny sigh.

Cute.

'Explain. Please.'

'What do you want me to tell you?'

'Gee, I don't know. Some details so I can make sure that you haven't gone crazy from loneliness and kidnapped a child. What's his name? How old is he? Where did he come from? Why is he here? Why is he so upset? Did you kidnap him?'

'You think I would kidnap a child?' Typical men. Why did they only ever answer one question out of the list of speculations you directed at them? 

'I don't know what to think Bruce! I've experienced a lot of weird shit in my life but seeing you cuddling a six year old in your bed is somehow the weirdest one of them all.'

The man frowned at her disapprovingly and murmured. ' _Please_ don't curse in front of him.'

She stared at him incredulously before haughtily whispering, 'You kept saying _Dick_ in front of him! And now you're concious about me saying the least dirtiest curse word while he's _sleeping?'_

The tiniest of smirks played at his lips and she had to resist the urge to lean forward and scratch him. With a pair of scissors. He was really annoying her right now.

'I wasn't cursing. His name is Dick.'

She shot him an unimpressed look. 'Haha. Hilarious.'

'I'm not joking....'

She squinted her eyes at him suspiciously but at the lack of...well anything really, his face was still blank, she cocked her head to the side in incredulity. 'He's named after a male testicle?'

'His real name is Richard. He just prefers Dick.' Another sweep to the curls. 'And he's eight years old.'

'Um...' she glanced at the boy dubiously, taking in his short form. All three feet of it.

Okay he's probably not that short, but in her defence, math was never really her strong point. 'Are you sure...? Maybe you're confused.'

'I'm not that sleepy. I think I read his age pretty carefully when I was signing up for fostering him.'

'Wha- excuse me, _fostering_ him?'

'Yes.'

'You...a foster parent?'

'Yes.'

'You're responsible for his welfare and everything. You're essentially going to raise him.'

'Yes.'

'.....You did go through all the formal paperworks and systems right? You got licenced and everything?'

'How else do you think I acquired him?'

'Stealing?'

'That's your thing, not mine.'

'I steal jewels and pretty artefacts. I don't break into foster homes and steal a child.'

'He wasn't in a foster home.'

'Did you....pick him from the street?'

'Juvanile center.'

She startled at that and her eyes snapped back to the child in shock, raking over his thin form and baby face. He looked....harmless. And he was 9....what kind of crime could he possibly have committed at such a young age to be henious enough to be sent to jail? 

She couldn't even imagine the boy yelling, much less commiting a crime.

'What did he do?'

'He's a gypsy.' she recoiled at his blunt answer and she saw his jaw tense in a way it did when he was recounting something particularly enraging. Next to him, Dick shuffled closer and she watched as Bruce cupped the back of his head, his movements still gentle even as he gritted out. 'They claimed there was no spot for him in the system. But his social worker was just a racist wretch. He was miserable there. He was bullied and starved and grieving-' 

That was odd.

'-I had to get him out. I had to help him.'

'Grieving?'

He paused and when he looked at her now, she saw the gliny of sadness in his eyes and noticed the way his movements become softer as he rythmetically started to pet the boy's head. 'His full name is Dick Grayson.'

 _Grayson._ The name wrung a bell. She wracked her brain but could come up with no prominent figures in Gotham who came under that name.

'Why does that name sound so familiar?'

'He was a part of the flying Grayson's. The trapeze act of Haly circus who-'

'-fell to their death.' she whispered, her heart twanging in sympathy. Dear god, that story had shaken her up too. It had ran through the papers for days, the death of the seemingly invulnerable and daring performers accompanied with the horror and grief of their young son witnessing the gruesome tragedy.

'They were murdered.'

'Sorry?'

'They didn't fall in a freak accident. They were sabotaged. It was a planned murder.'

That was upsetting. But she didn't doubt his theory. She didn't doubt him. He had proved time and time again to be a brilliant and rational detective. If Batman considered a tragic death to have been planned, it was. 

'Does the boy know?'

'He is the one who told me.'

Well that changed things.

'Bruce.... he's a child. Who lost his family and went through a traumatising ordeal. How can you be sure that he is not making this up to cope with the loss?'

'I have my reasons.'

'Which would be?'

'-if he was wrong, then that's that. But I at least owe it to him to take his words and investigate. He gave me a name. He recounted the threats. He gave me a reason. A traumatised eight year old couldn't have made everything up with such proximity. I'm investigating it.'

'So he's an accessory to one of your cases?' she tested coolly, but even as she said it, she knew she had nothing to fear. The man may be emotionally constipated-

-but he was compassionate. He would not treat someone with such disregard, least of all a child.

'He has a home here well after I close the case. He's here because....I understand. I know what it feels like. And I want to help him. I don't want him to end up dead or....like me.' Looking away, he stared down at the peaceful face of his ward, forcing the next words out, despite how vulnerable they made him feel. 'I want him to be happy. To not let his loss and trauma take over him.'

'To not be another Batman.'

With a rueful smile, he nodded. 'He's a bright child. Before the death of his family, he was loud and cheerful and full of wit and life. He was a happy boy. I don't think he can go back to being as he was but I do hope that he doesn't lose all his energy.' 

Despite the thousands of questions and fears and doubts creeping through her mind, she smiled. She wondered if he realised how he sounded when he spoke of the boy. There was a hint of pride hiding away in his voice, a creep of fondness that she'd only heard parents speak of when they described their children. 

He sounded like a parent.

He was a parent. At least a temporary one. Though she had no doubt he looked at it differently because the big scary bat's brain always did work in a complicated way.

It was confusing.

But it was heart warming.

Silence fell over them and she watched the boy's chest rise and fall, his fingers curling and unfurling in Bruce's duvet and the way his curls swept back into place after Bruce's hand moved away. A sudden realisation hit her and she gasped lightly. 'That's where you were. You've been taking care of him the weeks I didn't see you.'

'I've had him for longer then two months.'

'Huh?'

'Three to be exact.'

'But...why don't I know about this? Does anyone know?'

'Leslie does. So does Alfred. But I've managed to keep it on the down low from everyone else. He's having a rough enough time as it is, he doesn't need the press on his tails.'

'Arrogant much? I'm sure the tabloids have more important stuff to cover then your home life.'

'I bought a Samsung two weeks ago and there were approximately 31 articles written about it. Trust me, this will be like striking gold for them'

'I stand corrected....'

'Hmm.' he turned and yawned into his arm and she leant back against the mattress, still unable to tear her eyes away from the two. 'You can sleep here. I'll take him to his room and stay there.'

'Why? Are you afraid I have cooties?' she grinned at his unimpressed look.

'He's....clingy after a nightmare. If I leave him alone, he'll wake up soon and go in a spiral and he needs as much sleep as he can get. If I leave him alone and come back, he'll most definitely wake up.'

_Such a dad._

'Let him stay here. There's obviously some form of comfort he feels from being in your room.' she stretched leisurely, suddenly feeling more exhausted then she'd ever felt in her life. 'I'll go home.'

'It's late. You can go back in the morning-'

'I don't think he knows me well enough to feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed as me and like you said, he needs his rest. And I've been out at night at odd hours before Bruce, we both have.' rolling her eyes, she stood up and grabbed her pants from the chair they'd been tossed off and lazily pulled them on before blowing him a kiss as she pattered out the door. Behind her, Bruce shuffled as if to get up and stop her.

'Selina-'

'For the love of God, stop being so clingy.' she jabbed, but her tone was light and teasing. She didn't really understand how she felt now. A part of her was upset with him from hiding this from and insecurities were beginning to eat her from within but another part of her felt...soft.'I'll see you later Bats.' pausing with her hand on the door knob, she smiled at the pair. 'Stay with your new kid. He needs you more then I do.'

Before he could so much as open his mouth to no doubt either deny something juvenile or continuing to protest her early departure, she walked away, slipping down the large staircase and long hallways before stepping out into the cool night air. As she toed her shoes on, she finally allowed herself to delve into the situation now that she actually had more information.

Bruce...was a guardian. There was a child in the mix now, who would essentially be a part of her life if she continued on with Bruce. She could already tell the two were attached to each other, which meant that she could expect future plans with more open interactions with the kid. 

(On a side note, she wondered if Bruce knew he was growing attached to the kid. The guy could be pretty clueless in his own complicated way.)

She didn't know how she felt about all this. She didn't know how this would work out. She didn't know if she should be concerned about Bruce's parenting skills or have confidence in him.

She didn't know a lot. She didn't like not knowing stuff. It made her antsy 

Pausing on her journey to the gateway, she decided to ease some of her worries. She broke away from her path to instead scamper up a tree and perch on a branch that allowed her a view into Bruce's room. Through the half opened curtains, she could spot their curled up figures. The boy's back was turned to her and a large arm was crooked around his small body, keeping him tucked close to the broad chest of his new guardian. Through the hazy glass, she could see that Bruce was still awake and with pleasant surprise, she noted the serenity on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

Mind more at peace, she jumped down from the tree and rolled to her feet, a smile of her own breaking out.

There was still so much she didn't know about Dick Grayson. Still so much she didn't know about his situation and Bruce's and their situation together.. But she had good hopes for him.

After all, anyone who could make the dark knight look as fond as the boy did in his sleep must definitely be worth it.


	2. Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel is just the name I gave to Bruce's assistant. I don't really know why, I'm just watching friends too much.

Rachel frowned at the calendar, her eyes hurting from the variations of colours used to highlight each date and pencil in the events planned for that day. Out of all her duties as the assistant of one of the richest man in the world who over looked a company which made billions of dollars every year, keeping Mr. Wayne's schedule in check was her least favourite job. 

How did this man get a second to _breath?_

Frowning, she scammed the contents from 11th-16th, wondering if she could squeeze this meeting with a multi billion international company somewhere there. Wistfully, she wondered if she could just erase some of the more mundane tasks and just add this one in their place. Perhaps one of the more boring meetings. Mr. Wayne definitely hated those. She still remembered the time he'd fallen asleep during an important meeting with the Japanese oil company. 

Though in his defence, that had been scheduled during the first few weeks he'd had Richard and a child of any age was exhausting. She'd know. She had a billion nephews and nieces and everytime she babysat, she crashed hard and frantically thanked God she didn't have any.

She loved her nieces. And her nephews. And she did like children. Just not as a permanent responsibility. 

And up until 6 months ago, she'd assumed Mr. Wayne was the same. After all, a successful CEO who spent quite a lot of times in the tabloids being oohed and ahhed for his charms and 'talent' with aquiring several female partners and getting ridiculously drunk at yet another frivolous party was hardly the type she would trust to raise a child.

But she had been working with him for over two years now and she had learned quite quickly that there was more to him than his playboy persona suggested. There was a reason he was considered Gotham's white Knight. He and Batman would be the sole reason for bringing Gotham back to its feet and cleaning up the streets, mark her words.

And as it turned out, he wasn't bad with kids. Richard had been an unexpected but welcome addition to his life. It had changed the man for the better, his bachelor lifestyle and persona diminishing as he took responsibility. The child had bought changes into his life, some big and some small but all a wonderful diversion.

Even now, she smiled as she read the events written in green pencil, the colour indicating all the responsibilities he had for the boy. There was a parent teacher meeting in three days, a reminder for him to test Richard's math skills for an upcoming quiz, two basketball games to attend and a reminder for a dentist appointment and next to it, in tiny brackets he himself had jammed in, _please don't mention it to him yet, he hates the dentist_

It was endearing how his activities had changed from potential dates and parties to focusing mainly on the well-being of the child.

As if summoned, the elevator at the end of the hallway dinged and as this floor was much quieter then the rest of Wayne enterprise, seeing as only the CEO and higher ups sat here, she immediately recognised the chatter of a young Richard Grayson as he and Bruce Wayne stepped out. Around them, people politely greeted the man before waving merrily at Dick, some stopping to ruffle his hair and exchange a few words of greetings. Rachel smiled as she looked down and crosses _pick Dick from school at 2. Alfred unavailable._ with a thick red marker as the duo stepped closer, the boy's hair sticking up in random directions now due to all the hair tossles and ruffles.

'Pleaaaaase-'

'No.'

'Please, please, please, please-'

'No.'

'Just for today!'

'Still no.' he nudged the child's chin with the back of his knuckes and nodded at Rachel, 'Now stop pestering me and go say hello. It's rude not to do so.' with the simple chastising, the billionaire gave her a polite smile and walked into his office, leaving the door wide open to presumably keep an eye on his ward. In front of her, Dick pouted and rested his knobby ankles on her desk and rested his face on them as he glared at him through the doorway, to which the man passively stared back as he got settled back in his desk and dropped the small yellow school bag he was carrying at his feet. Rachel watched the silent exchange with amusement, leaning back in her chair and weaving a hand through her short black hair. They were an interesting pair, her boss and his charge and they were also quite entertaing in their own way. Especially the boy.

Eventually, Richard seemed to grow bored with having a staring contest and broke the eye contact away with a groan and muttered something under her breath as from the corner of her eye, she spotted the older man smirking slightly as he opened up his laptop. Coughing so as to hide her chuckle, she smiled at the child as he hopped up to sit cross legged on her desk. 'Hi Rachel. You look pretty.'

Always the charmer.

She placed the marker back in the pencil stand and smiled. She'd only got to meet the boy a little over a month ago but she'd taken a liking to him. He was wild and energetic and fun, giving little quips and teasing remarks here and there while simultaneously giving his guardian tiny heart attacks. It was funny to see the normally put together man look after this tiny child with his never ending energy and a flare for dramatics.

'Thank you Richard. You look lovely.'

He snorted and lazily loosened his tie and pulled it off. 'You don't have to sugarcoat it for me. This uniform is really ugly and everyone says so.'

'Just being courteous.' she shrugged, as she discreetly plucked a cherry flavoured toffee from her drawer box and nudged it into his palm, both sharing a secret smile. It had become a tradition for them since Dick had become a frequent visitor. They had to be subtle though, knowing that his guardian and his Butler did not approve of too much sugar intake.

Dick smiled at her in thanks as he twisted the wrapper off and quickly plucked the tiny chewy candy in his mouth and sucked it thoughtfully. 'Bruce would be upset if he got to know about our candy exchange. Why is he so weird about sweets? It's a normal and essential part of childhood.'

She hummed and subtly pulled the calendar away from Dick's view and closed it firmly, deciding to work the meeting in later when the child had left. She had a nudging suspicion that Mr.Wayne was trying to keep him away from sweets till his pending dentist appointment. 'I don't think that's true....fairly certain that most ads and books tell you to keep children away from sweets.'

'It's a dumb rule.' he grumbled, hopping off from the table and stretching leisurely. 'You should feed kids candies if you want them to be happy. Taffies, candies, lolliepops and-' he purposefully raised his voice and glanced behind him where the CEO was seemingly absorbed in his work. _'-especially ice creams.'_

She raised her brows in confusion as Mr.Wayne immediately looked up from his laptop with a conflicting expression of exasperation and amusement. Dick was now full on glaring at his guardian, and Rachel had to admit, she was impressed that the boy had so much courage in his four foot tall body to stand up to him. The whole office had been shook when this miniature child had first arrived at the building and had looked up at one of the most important man in Gotham and squeaked out an inpatient, _'Bruce, I'm hungry!'_

What a brave child. Then again, she shouldn't be that impressed. He clearly had the man wrapped tightly around his little finger.

'Are you still on about that?'

Oh. So that's what they'd been arguing about when they had come in.

'I just want ice cream. It's not that big of a demand.'

'Mm.'

Dick sighed and turned to her with a look that clearly said, _see?_ 'How is a kid suppose to get anything straight if he just grunts and humms in response?'

She allowed herself a small smile and quickly hid it by turning around to shuffle through folders. She might agree but she couldn't exactly be laughing about her boss's peculiar habits.

'Dick, enough. Leave Miss Smith alone and let her work.'

'He's not bothering me, Mr. Wayne.' she said truthfully. She really did enjoy his visits and she was sure the CEO knew his charge was well liked within the office. Sometimes, she thinks he just got iffy when he was away for too long.

'See B? Not everyone considers me a bother.' the child sniffed , purposely leaving a jabbing edge to his otherwise pleasant tone. Despite the distance between Rachel's desk and her boss's, she could see him roll his eyes as clear as day.

'Just come in here.' 

'Bossy.' the boy grumbled and she couldn't help the sqwuak of surprise and joy as he promptly flipped himself upside down so that his feet were sticking up in the air and she leant over her desk to watch him edge into the CEO's office on his hands. His little quips and the gymnastic tricks he'd picked from the circus were always captivating. Didn't matter how many times she saw him walk on his hands with the ease of a smooth running car, it always amazed her.

Though she wished he would limit his acrobatics to the ground. She still remembered the heart attack she'd gotten when she'd walked into Mr.Wayne's office one afternoon while he was in a meeting and found the boy swinging on the fancy lights in the middle of the room.

Now, she spared a glance at the duo as Mr.Wayne gently nudged the boy's foot sticking in his face away so that he would straighten up before turning to her work again, pulling out her memo and picking up the office phone as she dialed in the first number on the list and settled herself in her 'professional' misdset. Vaguely, she could hear Dick's cheerful chatter as he teased his guardian and dodged the half hearted scolding. As the line clicked and the receiver on the other hand gave a practiced announcement of their firm, she saw him plop down on the couch with Mr.Wayne's phone gripped in his hands, distracted and sated into behaving by using any child's weaknesses. Technology.

And candy, but that usually backfired when the sugar rush hit.

Though, from experience, she knew he wouldn't stay settled for long.

Surely, as the hours passed and her throat grew dry from making appointments and handing out rejection, the boy was a flurry of action. She watched him zip by in a blur of blue, his face split in a mischievous grin as his guardian called out after him, his platinum card clutched in the child's hand as he ran into the closing elevator and gave them a merry wave. A half hour later, he returned with two baggies from the office cafeteria and a few crumbs on his cheek as he quickly deposited one on her desk with a 'I bought you a chocolate muffin, I know you like them' and hurried away into the office before Rachel could return it (he'd bought that from Mr. Wayne's money) and giving his guardian a sheepish smile as he handed him the other doggie bag with a sheepish, 'I bought you back lunch.'

She smiled into her own home brought lunch as she heard the defeated sigh of a man who had long since given up in making Dick sit peacefully in his office rather then scurrying to every corner of the building as he tried to work out his never ending energy. From the corner of her eye, she saw him pull out a tissue from the box on his desk and hand it to the boy with a gesture to clean his cheeks.

She stood with the other assistants of the other big timers near the coffee machine and sipped some tea as they chatted about personal talks, answering any questions they asked about Richard, all grins and amused laughs as she recounted his shenanigans. 

When she returned, she was not even surprised to see him under her desk, complaining about being bored as his guardian had left for a meeting. She entertained him for about half an hour, getting into an intense debate about Pokemons until Mr.Wayne returned, waving off his apologies for disturbance as Dick promised to bring his Pokemon cards to show her _why_ Pikachu was not over rated and scurried into the office.

The sun was beginning to set as she started formalising some documents and agreements, momentarily distracted by Richard's excited 'Yes' and despairing 'Nos' as he played away at his Gameboy. Halfway through summarising today's meetings points to add to the log, he was back at her desk with his feet in the air and his voice stuffy, probably from being upside down too long. Impressed, she watched as he balanced himself on one hand to wave at Jack, Lucius's assistant, before balancing himself back on two and carrying himself back into the office at Bruce's tired, 'Dick, for God's sake....'

As evening hit though, it seemed Mr.Wayne had finally succeeded in taming the child's bouncing energy and had him settled on the floor, back pressed against the large window as he balanced a notebook in his lap and frowned at the ones on the floor, bottom lip being chewed by his lip as he mulled over the answers. Rachel had helped him with science (a subject that he loved and strangely seemed to have a much broader understanding of than someone of his grade should) and history homework. (a subject he absolutely loathed. She'd heard him complain many times to his guardian about how he wasn't even born here, why did he have to learn the history? The best response he'd gotten was a shrug) She offered to help him again, seeing as today had been a relatively slow day but Mr. Wayne politely turned her down, not wanting to bother her as Richard bluntly told her, 'He's worried I won't get anything done and just waste time by talking with you if you help me' and yelped when his guardian flicked his ear and sighed, 'Brat.'

She opened up her phone and scrolled through her socials, distracted between the posts of her friends and the chatter of the office. Distantly, every now and then, she would hear Richard get up to ask his guardian for help in reading and pronouncing some words, seeing as his English still wasn't as perfect as the average gothamite. Sometimes, the man would read the word out and explain it's meaning and context. Other times, he'd pronounce some letters and prod the boy until he picked it up, testing his language skills. Even from this afar, she could hear the tiny of pride in his voice as Dick managed to enunciate the word correctly.

She had almost gotten lost in her world when a happy cry echoed from the office. Startled, she dropped her phone on the desk and turned her chair to peer in as she saw Mr.Wayne decidedly refusing to budge at Richard's insistent tugs at his arm. A shadow fell over the desk and she glanced over her shoulder to see Jack had come to a stop next to her, phone forgotten as they watched the endearing scene.

'Look!! It's right there! So we don't even have to even walk all the way to the ice cream parlor!'

'That's not the problem I had with it.' the man sighed, gently pulling his arm away and nudging him away from the window. 'No ice cream before dinner. That's the rule.'

'But-'

'No buts.' He scolded, and Rachel raised her brows at the firm tone. Huh. She'd barely ever heard him direct that voice at the child though she knew she only saw a fraction of their lives when they came to work. The tone seemed to have wonderous effects on the boy who immediately grew somber and pulled away, looking a bit like a kicked puppy. ' I don't want Alfred after me for ruining your appetite again. Now please just finish your homework.'

Rachel watched in surprise as the boy reluctantly pulled away and turned back to his homework, dropping down on the floor with his back to the window with a defeated look as he pulled his homework back into his lap with possibly the saddest puppy eyes she'd ever seen. Jack 'oomphed' next to her and they shared a look as he bent down and whispered, 'Is he really going to say no to him?'

'Mm. I'm pretty sure he'll give in.'

'Really? He seems pretty set on his word.'

'Nope, mark my words, he'll give in to Richard's puppy eyes soon. He always does.'

'Wanna bet? I've never seen him tell the kid no.'

'It's rare but he does refuse him stuff every now and then. For a while. And then he _always_ compromises and gives in so yes, I'll take that bet. Hundred bucks.'

'Done.' Jack grinned and pulled a chair up next to her, the two of them pretending to delve into the files scattered over Rachel's desk as they watched the duo from the corner of their eyes. Dick's shoulders were hunched in on himself as he sadly tapped his pencil against his notebook. Rachel smugly noted that her boss was side eying the unusually quiet boy and she knew his strict resolve was dissolving.

Sure enough, about three minutes later he let out a long suffering sigh and dragged a hand down his face. She nudged Jack with her elbow and nodded as Bruce tapped Dick's head. 'One scoop.' he said firmly, reaching behind him to pull out his wallet and scoop out a crisp fifty dollar bill. Dick's whole demounor changed and he jumped to his feet with a bright grin. 'And nothing too sweet. Get vanilla or strawberry.' 

'Yes!! Okay! Be right back!'

'Not alone.' 

'But if I don't go now, the truck will leave!'

'An ice cream truck goes by each hour, chum. I'll take you to the next one.'

'We can catch this one.'

'I'm not running down 20 floors, kiddo. Next ice cream truck I promise.'

'I can-'

'-I can take him if you want, sir.' Jack offered out of the blue and Rachel turned with the other two to stare at him in surprise. The man turned a little red at the attention but other then that, kept up a confident front. Mr. Wayne's brows furrowed and he placed a hand on his charge's shoulder to stop him from getting too excited. 

'Jack, thank you for the offer but I don't want to bother you. Dick can wait until the next truck.'

'It wouldn't be a bother. It'll only took a minute or so.'

'Okay.' Dick chirped in before his guardian could interject any further and ran up to stand next to the two assistants. Rachel leant back to his chair as the child slipped his smaller hand into the elder's hand and dragging him to the elevator, cheerfully calling out, 'Be back soon, B.'

'One scoop!' The CEO called out as he stepped out of the office to stand next to Rachel's desk. 'And don't wander away. Come right back up.' the elevator closed before the boy could reply, though she did spot Dick and Jack engaged in a very deep conversation. How did the kid just bond with anyone who so much as _breathed_ in his direction.

Mr.Wayne sighed again and she turned her attention back to him, offering him a sympathetic smile. 'He'll be fine sir. Jack won't let him get hurt.'

'I'm not that worried about that. I'm more worried about Dick manipulating him into buying more junk food.' 

She laughed and stood up, feeling a bit uncomfortable sitting while her boss was standing. She picked up a file contains documents that hadn't been signed yet and raised it to show him. 'I wouldn't worry about it. While we wait, do you mind signing these so I can forward them? I've looked through all the documents and all the details seem in check.'

Mr. Wayne nodded distractedly, eyes still trained at the closed elevator door. 'Of course, let's do this in my office. Can you tell me what they're about?'

'This one is about the agreement with BrassCorp. You attended the meeting with them a week ago about a joint project to fund the social services.'

'Mm'

She continued to recite the summary of what the documents details as he signed them distractedly and she noted his eyes kept darting to the elevator door and to the window to peer at the street below him. 

'And this document is the cooperation with Jim's Institution but they're demanding a bigger payroll which I didn't think they deserved. This document agrees with them but I'll pull up a new one that turns them down. What do you think I should do?'

'Mm.'

'Sir? Which choice?'

'What? I'm sorry.' he looked away and gave her an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry Miss Smith. Could you repeat that again? I'm a bit distracted.'

'Richard will be fine, sir. He's a smart boy.'

'Yes well..... he's a bit of a trouble maker. Even when I keep a watch on him, he continuesly gets into trouble so I worry when I'm....not there.' He trailed off and her lips quirked up into a smile. He was usually so put together and she could never really get over how much he worried about his boy.

'I haven't met any kid who isn't.' she comforted, busying herself by collecting the documents that were signed. 'I've learnt to just be grateful they like you enough to listen and try to stay somewhat good.' 

'He's a good kid.' Bruce added distractedly, signing the document she'd been talking about. She made a mental note to shred it and pull up a new document and talk to him about it when he was in a clearer state of mind. 'I just....worry. He's been through enough.' 

She hummed sadly, remembering the tragic day. It had really been the decision to foster Richard Grayson that had tipped Bruce Wayne in Rachel's favour. It was a tragic yet beautiful connection. He was too hard on himself but she truly thought he was doing a good job, he was certainly pushing himself to limits no one thought he would. She was glad he was so involved in the boy's life, so engrossed in giving him a better life then what had been tossed at him. She felt he had to know that.

'You don't have to worry. I've seen him running around here and chatting up everyone he can see. He talks alot about you and all of it is good.' 

A gruff humph. Typical.

'All I'm saying is, he's very fond of you. He wouldn't have gotten so attached to him if you weren't doing a good job. You're a good father to him.'

He startled at that and looked at her with a perplexed expression. At least, she thought he looked perplexed. Maybe he was surprised. Or confused. She couldn't read him as well as she liked go think.

'I'm-' he stood straighter and cleared his throat. 'I'm not his fa-'

'Bruce!' his words were cut off by Dick, who had stepped into the office, oblivious to the conversation that was being shared by the two adults. 'I got you a vanilla ice cream.'

Conversation forgotten, the man thanked her under her breath and turned to the child, taking the cone offered to him and raising a brow at the boy's pink one. 'That doesn't look like strawberry.'

'It's pink.'

'It's too pink to be strawberry. What favour is that?'

'.....Bubble gum.' he admitted, reaching out to grab Rachel's hand as she passed. 'I got you a chocolate one. Jack has it. We decided to go with a safe option but I wanted to get you a blueberry one. But I figured everyone likes chocolate so that's the best option.'

Her heart squeezed at how....thoughtful the boy was. She freed one hand to ruffle his hair as she passed by. 'That's really nice of you. Thanks, kiddo.' 

'No problem.' he smiled innocently at her as she left the two alone. Dropping the file on her desk, she pulled her drawer open to pull out envelopes to slide the documents in and then shoo the interns to the mailing room. She could hear her boss and the boy playfully bickering as she slid the papers into the brown envelope. 

It was playful and it occurred with the air of familiarity. It was something she'd seen millions of father indulge their children in. It was such a common occurrance.

Mr.Wayne may still be in denial about his position in the kid's life but it was clear to anyone who spent so much as an hour with them that he was more then just a temporary foster parent.

She had no doubt that he would give up anything in a heartbeat to make the boy happy and keep him safe.

He might not realise he was a father. But he was. And a damn good one. She would make sure she stuck around long enough that he would realise that, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sounded better in my head for some reason :-((


	3. Helen

Helen twirled a free curl around her finger as she swept her eyes over her guests, at the women who shook their heads and made their earrings swing around and the men who straightened their jackets and ties as they shared buisness strategies and their weekend plans. Her own sons, well into adulthood, were scattered around the ballroom, standing tall and stylishly as they interacted with numerous of their business partners. To the far left, her daughter stood with her wife, one hand fondling her adopted son's hair as she conversed with Julia Roberts, the new CEO of CMS energy, and a good friend and buisness partner to her daughter.

Though, she noticed the missing space that was usually occupied by a smartly dressed man and, from the last few months, a young romani child. She blinked in surprise, looking around the ballroom in confusion as she tried to spot the young man she had previously used to envision her daughter getting married to before she was informed of her sexual preference. 

She tilted her head as she tried to find him, wanting to have a conversation with him. He might no longer be a potential love interest for her daughter but she was still fond of him and he was a good conversationist and a very impressive man. Helen had been close to Martha before her unfortunate demise and had been dismayed as the once bright and energetic child had been reduced to somber and distant, enforcing neglectful and harmful behaviour in his teens and then eventually transforming himself into a successful but distant buisness man.

On one hand, she pitied him. But for the most part, she felt some what protective of him as he reminded her too much of her own sons. Even though his Butler had done a great job at raising him, she felt he was still the same lost nine year old who had to work his way through a cruel world without a parental guidance, still lost and in need of a helping hand to judge him in the right direction.

'Nana!' an excited voice rung out through the ballroom and she glanced down as a whirl of energy rushed towards him and a seven year old crashed into her legs, her slightly sticky fingers twisting her grandmother's dress and wrinkling the expensive fabric. She smiled at the child, all her attention focused on her grand daughter now as she crouched down to pull her into her arms, her pretty frilly yellow dress clashing with her midnight blue. 

'Hi baby. Where's your father?' 

'He was talking to Mr. Wallace!'

'Mr. Wallace?' she couldn't remember a Mr. Wallace on the list. 

'Yeah! The big man who lives with Dick!'

She blanched in shock, horrified until she remembered. _'Oh._ You mean Richard and Mr.Wayne.' 

'Yeah! But he doesn't like being called Richard, Nana. He says it makes him feel old.'

'Mm. He's a unique little boy. I didn't know you were friends with him.'

'He's really fun. But we couldn't play today.' the girl said as her grandmother stood up and smoothened her dress, reaching down to hold her beloved grand daughter's hand as she let the child weave her way through the crowded ballroom, pausing here and there to share cheek kisses and smiles with her guests as they walked. 'Why not?'

'He's not feeling good. He was sweating a lot and he looked really dizzy. Mr. Wallace took him away when he got too tired to walk.'

'Mr. Wayne, darling.' she corrected, growing concerned now. That would explain his absence, he was usually right in in the middle of whatever gala or party they hosted. Although, he had started to appear less and leave quicker since he'd become a foster parent. 'So he left with Richard?'

'Dick, nana.' the child whined, sighing in exasperation. Helen's lips twitched at the unfortunate placement of that sentence and at the bewildered looks she got from passerbys. 'But no, Mr. Wayne just took him upstairs to one of the rooms cause Dick said he was gonna throw up.' she wrinkled her nose as she said the last sentence and Helen stroked her blonde locks fondly, knowing her grand daughter was the type to feel disgusted and nauseous herself when someone else so much as talked about puking. She got that from her father. 

'How long ago was that?' 

'Um, just five minutes before I came to you an- Lucas!' Helen's hand was dropped as her grand daughter rushed towards her older cousin, who grinned as she ran up to him, offering a small wave to his grandmother, who waved back distractedly, her mind on the new information she'd just been given. So Richard was sick somewhere in her house. That would explain the absence of his guardian. She started at the door that led out of the ballroom, only realising halfway there that she had been trailing a waitress who seemed to be carrying a bottle of.... ginger ale?

'Excuse me?' she called, smiling as the girl stopped in her step, looking slightly terrified. Her heels clicked importantly on the marble floor as she came to stand in front of the young girl, noticing smugly that it was one of the children sized bottles they kept the fridge stocked for their grand children. Seems like her suspicion was correct. 'Would you by any chance be taking this to Mr. Wayne and his sick ward?'

'Er...yes. I hope that's okay with you madam-'

'Of course, dear, that's very sweet of you. Did he ask you to?'

'Um...no. I was actually the one who informed him of how sick his kid seemed and I could hear him throwing up all the way from the kitchen so I thought I would bring him some ginger ale. Just in case.'

'That's thoughtful. Would you by any chance know in which room they are in?'

'I saw him take him in the first room on the left on the first floor.'

'Thank you dear. I can take the Ginger ale to him.'

'Oh madam you don't have to, you have to attend to your guests-'

'They'll be fine for a few minutes.' she dismissed as she daintily plucked the child sized bottles up. 'Thank you for telling me....'

'... Allison.'

'Allison.' she repeated, smiling at the girl. 'You're a very thoughtful girl and I'll let you know how Richard is.'

With that promise, she walked out of the room, passing by young couples who had taken to the more emptier corridor to share whispered conversations and secret kisses, though they pulled away when Helen passed them. She smiled coyly as they quickly straightened themselves up and offered hasty greeting. She pulled her dress up slightly so as not to trip over it as she walked up the stairs and then turned towards the corridor that led her to the rooms, pausing in front of the one that was slightly ajar. She raised her fist and knocked on it, gently pushing it open when she received no answer other then a faraway muffled sound. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and a disgruntled Bruce Wayne was standing outside it, looking exhausted and ruffled up. He straightened up as Helen entered, attempting to smooth his hair that he had clearly gotten tangled up from his insistent worrying and tugging on it.

'Helen.' he greeted, his hands going to fix a jacket that was currently discarded on one of the chairs. She smiled at his flustering which quickly turned into a grimace when a retch broke through the silence, followed by what she could interpret as liquid hitting liquid. Bruce glanced back at the half closed door, moving forward to shut the door a bit more after glancing inside. 'I'm sorry for imposing but Dick was feeling sick and I didn't really have time to get him anywhere else-'

'-deep breath, Bruce.' she interrupted gently, setting the ginger ale on the bedside table. 'I did not come here to be passive aggressive or tell you off. My grand daughter told me Richard was feeling unwell so I just came up here check on him.' she frowned at the closed door from where she could hear the wretches continue. 

Poor boy's throat and stomach must be killing him.

Bruce threw a furtive glance at the door but stayed put and Helen wondered if he was one of those people who got squeamish when someone else threw up. That would explain why he wasn't in there with the boy. 

That, or he was still lost on the whole parenting thing.

Perhaps he needed a nudge. 'How is he? Was it something be ate here?'

'No...he said that he was feeling off before we came but I presumed that it was just one of his tricks to get out of going to galas. He's tried it before but as it turned out-' he gestured at the closed door guiltily, '-it wasn't a bluff.'

Oh dear, she could relate to that. The guilt that came with not believing your kid when they whined about being sick and then seeing them get _actually_ sick was always a bad moment.

'It's a common mistake, dear.' she reassured him, already planning ways she could help the child. God knows, she's had her fair share of sick children and grandchildren who had needed comfort during their sick days. 'But it does help if you're there with them.'

She immediately realised she'd said the wrong thing when his face contorted, as if he had been back and forth on that himself. 'He doesn't want me inside with him. Doesn't want anyone to see him throw up.'

'Oh.' Well, she didn't know what to say to that. Fortunately, she was saved by the door being pulled open slightly and a wobbly voice whimpering, 'Bruce-' 

The younger man turned and stepped pass the doorframe slightly, only to pause and drop to his knees when the child fumbled into his lap. She watched as Bruce stood up, a pale and sweaty child curled in his arms, one fist curled into his white shirt.

'Hey buddy.' he sighed into his hair, rubbing the boy's back and stepping into the bathroom to presumably help clean him up. She sighed and walked out towards her adopted grandson's room for when he stayed over, to get some materials that might help Richard. He was younger then him but Richard was quite short for his age so she presumed his clothes would fit him. She opened his closet to pull out a clean nice smelling shirt and then picked a box of mints she saw was sitting on the bedside table. She waited a few minutes in the room before walking back to the duo she haf left but paused before entering. Inside, Bruce's face was turned away from the door as he stroked a hand through Richard's hair, talking in a soft voice to the crying child, who was clutching both the pillow he lay on and the oversized jacket that covered him. She cleared her throat to make her appearance announced and felt her heart clench painfully as the boy tearfully turned to hide his face in the pillow. She caught a muffled 'I'm sorry' and she was confused until the foul smell of bile hit her and she spotted a stained spot on the ocean blue carpet. 

She saw Bruce open his mouth and before he could start apologising for what she suppose was the accident, she cut him off. 'Oh you poor thing.' she placed the shirt and the box of mints on the mattress next to the man, before placing a gentle hand on the child's shaking back. 'Would you like some water, dear? Or a change of clothes.' 

The boy was quiet before he shook his head softly, continuing to mumble 'I'm sorry's'. Her heart melted at how sad he sounded and shook her head at Bruce when he started to apologise.

'Helen, I'm sor-'

'Oh please, Bruce no need to apologise. I can't tell you how many times I've had a vomit stained carpet removed because of a sick grandchild.' 

'I'll pay for the damage to the carpet.'

'No need. After the fifth week of having Jackson, I just asked my carpet cleaner company to teach me how to get vomit smells and stains out of my furniture. Haven't needed to pay a dime since then.'

'O-'

'Ngh- Bruce-' the billionaire's attention immediately shifted to the child still curled into a ball, going back to rubbing a large palm over his bony shoulders. Dick unfurled one arm and reached for his guardian, who immediately picked him up and helped him sit straight, leaning against his arm as he thumbed over his wet cheeks sympathetically. Helen's hands twitched as the tear streaks remained on his cheeks, wanting nothing more then to reach out and sooth him. He was really such a cute child, even now when he was shaking from post sick tremors and puffy cheeks and noses. 

She restrained herself though. She didn't think the boy would appreciate it, especially with how he was still sending her guilty eyes and shuffling close to his guardian. 

'What's wrong, Dick? Do you feel sick again?' Helen was taken aback with how....gentle that question was phrased. She'd never heard him talk so soothingly. She'd heard him laugh boisterously, drunkenly flirt and smartly make deals but had never heard him talk in such a sweet manner. 

The boy didn't look phased by it though, leading her to believe he was used to it. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 'Feel lousy....' 

Bruce sighed and rubbed a hand over his head as he gently nudged him into lying down again. 'I know, kiddo. You drank the ginger ale and I've called Alfred to come pick us up as soon as possible. The most you can do now is try to relax till we can get home and Leslie can check you up and can give us some medicine to use.'

'Mm.... don't like medicine...'

'It's better then throwing up your stomach.' Bruce answered easily, as he pulled his discarded coat up and laid it over the boy's tny body. 

'Taste worse then ginger ale....'

'Dick.' the man admonished gently, giving Helen a rueful smile. 'He doesn't mean that.'

'It's okay. I agree with him.' she said easily, though her smile dropped when Richard began to shiver. Helen watched as Bruce turned back to his ward, shushing him as he rubbed small patterns on his back, in a way that was strikingly familiar. How many times has she watched her husband sit on one of their sick children's bed all night and rub their back as he tried to lull them into a peaceful sleep? How many times has she seen the same exhausted and worried look on her own husband? How many times had her own children and then her grandchildren complained about drinking the cursed ginger ale?

Robert had always said, these were just some of the passage of parenthood that every mother and father had to go through with their kids. She'd been through it countless times with her four kids and now her 3 grandkids.

And she couldn't believe it, but it seemed as if Bruce was now crossing those passages too. She'd worried about him for a while, about him growing up alone and with no real love other then the parental love he received from his surrogate father. She'd worried that he would never settle down with a woman and start a family, his _own_ family.

Maybe it was none of her buisness. But she worried. She remembered Martha and how much she loved her family and she knew her dear friend would have wanted her son to grow up and become a loving family man, to have a wonderful wife and bright children.

It seemed as if she needn't have worried about the man missing out on that due to his trauma. Because what she saw in front of her was a reminiscent of every interaction she'd seen between a good father and his sick child. There was the love and the worry and the reassurances that slipped out in soft words and gentle back rubs. Richard and Bruce might have come together in unforeseeable ways but they were a family. An unconventional one but nonetheless, a family. And with how quickly he had grown comfortable and let the man sooth him to sleep showed the child's trust in the man. 

Clearly, there were sides to Bruce Wayne the public had not seen, but a side that she had always known he had. She had never believed he was the success driven, party obsessed playboy the tabloid and many of the upper class seemed to believe he was. She'd always said there was so much more to Bruce Thomas Wayne then that and she was right, wasn't she?

He was a father and a pretty good one too.

The silence was cut by the sound of a phone's ringtone and she coughed awkwardly when she realised she'd zoned out and had been staring at the duo for a while. Bruce spared one glance at the ringing device before sighing in relief, gently taking a hold of Dick's shoulders to shake him awake. When the boy groaned and buried his face into the pillow with a whine, his guardian immediately stopped. A small smile grazed his lips as he stood up and instead of trying to awaken the boy again, he instead lifted him up and set him in the crook of his elbow as Dick's head lolled lazily on his shoulder. With his free hand, he picked up his jacket and phone before turning to Helen.

'I really am sorry about the mess, Helen. And the imposing.'

'I'm not even thinking about that Bruce.' she replied honestly, smiling at the man. 'You just take care of your kid and let me know when he feels better, yes? Just some advice, some ginger tea with honey would really help settle his stomach and sooth his throat, it sounds like it's hurting him.'

He nodded solemnly, focusing more intensely then she'd ever seen him focus. 'I'll do that. Or at least Alfred will.'

'Oh that's right. Your butler has quite a knack for treating sick children, as I recall. Yes, I'd listen to him. Now of you go, dear get the poor child some real medical help.' she dismissed, stepping out of the way as he politely thanked her again and made his way towards it. Before he could step out though, she called over to him as she picked up the unused shirt and mint box. 'Bruce?'

'Yes?'

'Don't worry so much. He's a child, they get sick frequently and it always seems to be out of no where.' Bruce shifted uncomfortably, seemingly unsure of where this sudden quip had come from. Helen resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she continued, 'All I'm saying is, don't beat yourself over the head for not believing him and for him being sick. Raising children is not easy and you're going to make lots of mistakes but don't fall into a spiral because of them. It's just a part of parenthood. You're doing a good job with him.'

He looked at her now, his eyes betraying a thousand emotions as his mouth opened and closed like a fish until he finally said, 'Thank you Helen' and promptly turned on his feet and left. She walked over to the large window that looked over her garden and driveway, spotting some of the paparazzi that had requested entrance for the party and she wished she hadn't granted it when those vultures immediately jumped into position as the faraway figure of Bruce Wayne stepped out. She watched as the hand holding his coat and phone immediately shot up to shield the child's face, protecting him from the bright flashes of the camera and the prying eyes of the press as he speed walked to the Mercedes standing at the front of the driveway. She watched as he got the door open with some difficulty and sat down and just before the door closed, she caught a momentary glimpse of him settling Richard on his lap as he closed the door and blocked out the rest of the world and their peeking eyes.

She smiled softly as she turned away, realising she had spent enough time away from her guests. It was rude after all, for a hostess to disappear for _this_ long. But even as she placed her grandson's possessions back in his room and walked down the stairs, her mind was still trained on her deceased friend's son and his charge.

She had meant what she'd said. He was doing a good job. Even if he hadn't seemed to believe her or had come to realise how truly important he seemed to have become to the child. He was a good father. 

And as it turned out, she didn't have to worry about him still being stuck in his trauma and needing guidance and help into falling into the family life. He already was a family man and she was so glad to know that these two lost souls had somehow managed to find each other and help each other move towards a brighter path as they slowly but surely became each other's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 5 AM. I have no idea how I managed to write this so quickly but I hope it doesn't feel rushed or too blunt. I really tried my best and I tried to portray Helen as the auntie's from my life. I mean, they're good people but they're very obsessed with you starting a family and all.... But she was pretty fun to write!
> 
> I have so much to say and so much gratitude to give but I am so exhausted and I am just going to try to sleep. Bye lovelies thank you for reading!


	4. Carlos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory: Carlos and Bruce are buisness partners and one of his 'Brucie Wayne' friends.

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he worked out the tangles and swivelled his head to try and find his buisness partner. It had been a long time since him and Bruce had travelled together, the occurrance growing more scarce since the man had taken in his new ward about nine months ago.

He had really hoped that becoming a guardian would have made him more responsible and finish his mysterious habit of disappearing whenever someone's back was turned.

Unfortunately for him, he hadn't grown out of that fun little habit.

And he couldn't even call his name out without grabbing attention. _Bruce Wayne_ was a very influential name, even in Spain.

He glanced at his watch in aggravation, sighing irritatedly as he noted it had been twenty minutes since he'd been looking for his friend. God damn it Bruce, why does he have to be so god damn secretive? He had no idea where to look for him in the hotel. The spa? The 45 restaurants? The pool? Why did they even have to choose such a huge hotel when they knew one of them had a habit of disappearing in to the shadows?

Growing frustrated, he pulled out his phone and groaned when he realised that the lobby blocked out any cell service.

_Damn you Bruce._

He adjusted his tie as he walked out of the hotel, nodding politely at the door man when he tipped his head. Stepping out into the drive way, he chose Bruce's contact and pressed it to his ear, wandering around the assorment of shops the hotel offered. He glanced at the more flashy ones as the dial tone rang sharply in his ears but faltered in his steps when he spotted a familiar shape in the....

_Toy shop?_

Huh....who would have thought his fellow CEO had an interest in toys?

He ended the call and stepped in to the shop, rubbing his temples at the sheer _brightness_ of it. He would curse out the decorator but he supposed the best way to attract kids was to make something bright and shiny. Kids loved that kind of crap, right?

'Bruce?' he called as he slapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. The man didn't jump but Carlos did feel him tense up for a second. 'Would you mind telling me what the fuck you're doing in this little shinding?'

Instead of answering, all he got was a distracted, 'Don't curse in a children's toy shop. Highly inappropriate.'

'There's no one around.' he observed, letting go of his shoulder and stepping in line next to him to gaze up at the rows of toys on the shelf. He noted with amusement that they were all superhero themed? 'Just two twenty seven years old looking at flashy tiny people in colourful shorts.'

'Shorts?' 

'Yeah, what do you call that?' he grinned as he longed at an action figure of Superman. Bruce glanced over at it and his lips twisted into a smirk before he coughed and turned away from it. 'So you in here for your little boy?'

'Mm. Figured I might as well take something back.'

'He likes superheros?' 

'Loves them. Obsessed with them.'

'Oh yeah?' he hummed as he reached to his left and picked up a wonder woman plushie. 'Who's his favourite?'

To his amusement, Bruce actually rolled his eyes and scowled as he begrudgingly answered, 'Superman.'

He couldn't help himself. He laughed as he picked up a Superman plushie too. 'What's with the distate? You got something against the big blue guy?'

'No...not really.' He tried to turn back from Carlos and let the subject drop but one of the reason him and Bruce got along so well was because of their surprisingly similar tendencies, such as their persistent and stubborn nature. He smacked his colleagues head with the superman plushie with a coy grin. 'What's your problem with him?'

'Nothing. Absolutely nothing.'

'Uhuh. Tell me or I'll follow you home and keep bugging you until I weasel it out of you.'

'You need to grow up.' he grumbled but at his infuriating smirk he sighed in annoyance as he placed a green lantern bag back on the shelf. 'It just seems as if he has a pretty huge choice to select from and he chose the most....er-'

'-basic one?' 

'....I suppose you could say that.' The man grunted and Carlos laughed as he walked towards the section that had a huge variety of batman and called out, 'You know, you'd think he'd be more into batman and all his gustavo seeing as he's from Gotham. Aren't your people and metropolis constantly stuck in a war over who's better?'

'Hmm.'

'And he chose Superman? Surprised the Gotham public hasn't torn him apart.'

'Kids tend to like Superman more.'

'Can't really blame them.' New York wasn't trailed by the big dark knight but it was just as enthralled by the caped crusader as anyone else. That didn't mean people felt specifically safe when they talked about batman. Carlos couldn't understand in what universe a child would feel safe with a huge gothic man who could make Satan pee himself. 'I think he's more of a fascination for teenagers.'

'Well, he can have all the batman merch he wants when he turns thirteen. For now, might as well get him something he'd _actually_ like.'

'Not to be rude, but why bother buying him action figures and plushies from Spain when you could get them from any Supermarket in Gotham? If you're going to gift him something from here might as well get something with a little flavour. Like-' he waved a wonder woman figurine with a Campero on her head, '-Seronita Wonder woman!'

'No. You can buy that for your daughter though, let's see how much she likes it.' the other joked, picking up a small basket and tossing three packaged figurines if Flash in different boxes, not noticing how his friend had tensed up. Carlos carefully placed the toy back on the shelf, wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his jacket. 

He hadn't even thought about buying his kid something. After all, he barely saw her. 'You think I should take something back for Nora?' he felt his heart twist painfully as he recalled his daughter, someone who he tried his hardest not to think about. He loved her. He did. He really really did. But....they barely had a relationship. She lived in Gotham with her mother and he lived in New York and he saw her about once or twice a month. Lately, it wasn't even that though he didn't have anyone to blame but himself. 'I never really do.... Anything she wants, Alice buys it for her or gets me to import it.'

'So can Dick. Alfred and Selina say it's more about the sentiment of getting a gift from a strange unfamiliar land or whatever. Wouldn't hurt to take something back for her. I think I saw some beaded jewelry near the front.'

'Uh, I don't.... really know what she likes.' he admitted, not liking the heavy stone of guilt that settled itself into his stomach. He turned away so as not to see the judgement in his friend's eyes, though he didn't think it would make him feel any worse. He'd always been a lousy father and he was well aware of it. Being absent could have been a valid excuse when Nora was first born back when he was eighteen years old and financially unstable but almost ten years later, he still barely saw her. Alice had tried her hardest to make the two bond but it was so _hard._ There was always an awkward air around them, embedded from years of lack of bonding and after a particular....incident when Nora was under his care, he decided that the less contact they had, the better. 

'She's nine right? Just ask the sales clerk, they have a pretty good idea what kids like.' 

'No, no....I think it's okay. I don't want her getting any hopes up or anything...'

At that, Bruce paused and looked over at him with a slight judgemental look in his eyes, though it's effect was filled by the Martian Manhunter themed coloring book he was holding. 'Are you still not on talking terms with your daughter?' 

He shrugged, his jolly mood souring as he pulled his phone out to fiddle with it but quickly pocketed it when his home screen lit up of a smiling picture of his daughter. He didn't need that right now. 'I told you man, it's better that we don't talk.'

'Carlos-'

'Bruce, you know as well as I do that it's better that we don't...you know. I mean I love her, I really do, but having a relationship with her is...it's just not a good idea.'

Bruce sighed but before he could continue, Carlos quickly cut him off, done discussing this. 'Look, let's just drop it okay? Just pick a gift out for you boy and let's go. We're gonna be late for the airport if we don't leave soon. I'll be outside.' He turned to leave but a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and kept him in place and he groaned. 'Bruce-'

'Is this because of what happened two years ago? Are you still avoiding her because of that?'

'She almost died, Bruce. It wasn't something, trivial, she almost died on my watch. You don't recover from that.'

'No, I know you don't. But you have to.'

'Yeah, well I couldn't. And she's not missing out on much Bruce, she's much better off without me. Anything she needs or any financial support, I'm there for her but...yeah, it's better like this.'

'I don't mean to be rude but it sounds as if you're trying to convince yourself more then me...'

'No, I-'

'Carlos, you can either keep lying to yourself that you don't miss your daughter and want to be in her life-'

'- it's not just that. I think Alice would prefer that I keep my distance too. She was really pissed off when it happened. Not that I can blame her-' he sighed in aggravation as he closed his eyes and recalled the scream of pain that had slipped from his daughter, and the pool of blood sprawled over his driveway, the tears and whimpers and sobs-

-it had been horrible. And the worst part was, he'd let his selfishness take over his responsibilities, and as soon as Alice had arrived he'd bailed. He couldn't stand the guilt and the pain and he'd needed relief and escape-

He hadn't even been there for her when she was taken into the emergency, even though the nurses had insisted that he could go along with her. He'd been too scared. The only decent thing he'd done was stuck around the waiting room till his ex-girlfriend had arrived and had paid for the hospital bills later.

The bare minimum. Scratch that, that wasn't even the bare minimum for a father. That was the lowest of minimums.

'If Alice would prefer that you were kept away from your child, she wouldn't have let you meet her the few times you did.' The warmth on his shoulder slipped away as Bruce stepped away, his tone growing a bit cold. 'She's a child, Carlos. Kids need parents. It isn't fair to her to not have a relationship with you when-' he gestured at him with his hand at him in a vague way, '-you're still here.'

To his surprise, he felt anger flare up inside him but it wasn't- it wasn't justified, he knew that, but he was growing defensive. 'Look, you've been a father for about nine months Bruce. You're still new at this. You don't know what it's like to see your kid hurt and feel helpless-'

'-In his third week with me, Dick jumped on the chandelier and broke it, along with his ankle.' Bruce cut him off calmly, his tone smooth and curt, immediately shutting Carlos up and cutting off his half assed accusations. 'In his second month, he climbed out of his window and slipped down the roof and got a concussion. Two weeks ago, he decided to try and ride his skateboard down the banister and hurt his head and ribs.' 

Carlos licked his lips dryly and ran a hand through his now messed up hair awkwardly, not really sure what to do with that. '.....You might want to get a leash for him...'

Bruce's lips twitched before he smoothened his expressions again. 'Dick and Nora are the same age, Carlos. Nine year olds are weirdly adventurous and very bad at calculating risks. They get hurt 24/7 and there isn't much you can do to avoid that but what you can do is be there for them when they do.'

'But Nora....I don't want to force my company on her if she doesn't- if she doesn't want it.'

'There's no harm in trying.' He hummed, walking to the aisle that was covered in pink stuff and picking up a baby doll dressed in a frilly pink dress and handing it to him easily. 'Come stay a few days in Gotham and bond with your daughter. From what I've heard, they tend to get more tough and hard to get through once they reach their teens. You're missing your chance.'

Carlos stared at the doll in his hands, his heart contracting painfully at it's blond locks, blue eyes and red cheeks took him 8 years back, back when his daughter had been tiny and much more dependant. 

It had been simpler times then.

'I don't know Bruce....'

'You're a self made millionaire who has survived getting hit by a truck and got stranded on an island for a week.' the reply was immediate and sarcastic and Carlos coughed awkwardly. 'You can shoulder spending time with your daughter.'

Carlos squeezed the doll and contemplated, weighing the pros and cons but his logical side was thrown away as he caught sight of a astoundingly familiar stuffed bunny. He remembered his daughter clutching a somewhat similar replica of it around his penthouse, dragging it through the hallways and to her bed. He missed that. He missed seeing his daughter run around his house and through his legs, and he missed hearing her laughing freely and comfortably around him, before she learnt to be awkward and distant around him.

He missed her. He missed having her in his life and he missed tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead. He had never been a great father but he'd been a hell lot better then he was now. 

Maybe it wasn't too late to try. Before it got too late.

'Okay....' he nodded, braving a smile. 'Okay....help me choose?'

'I mean....I can try, but I think you're better off asking the salesperson for help.' his head swivelled as he tried to spot some workers but paused when Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Thanks.... you're- I'm sorry for being short with you. You're a good dad.' 

Instead of looking gruff and pleased like Carlos had expected, the man froze before he stiffly replied, 'I'm not his father. Just his guardian.'

Carlos couldn't help the snort that slipped past him though he quickly covered it up with a cough. Trust Bruce and his intimacy and emotional issues to continue playing a ploy in all his relations. 

He might not have had Dick for long but the man was a definite father to the boy. 'Just Guardians' didn't invest monet into getting their wards the best education they could. 'Just Guardians' didn't shop for frivolous toys for their wards. 'Just Guardians' didn't come out of their usually secretive shell to brag about how smart and kind and sweet their boy was.

Bruce may have only been a father for 9 months, but he was a much better one then Carlos had ever been. He'd proven that when he'd been compassionate enough to convince a neglectful father to finally put some effort in.

Before he could say any of this though, the saleswoman was infront of him and Bruce had stalked off to the counter and Carlos's attention was turned to the abundance of glittery pink toys in front of her.

~~~~

'B!' A shrill voice rung out through the airport, effectively cutting Carlos and Bruce's conversation. Even the bellman helping them with their luggage looked around in surprise but they were looking too high because the child that rushed up to them barely reached their stomach. 

A blur of colour and excited noises whizzed past Carlos and he heard his friend let out a grunt of surprise and the sound of something smacking against something else. He blinked and turned around to see a well dressed boy wrapped around Bruce's legs, his hands clutching the elder's coat and his yellow bagpack on his back. Carlos noticed with smugness that there was a superman keychain dangling from the zip.

His friend looked just as surprised as Carlos, though he unfroze himself to wrap a heavy arm around the boy's shoulder. 

'Dick? Shouldn't you be in school?'

'Jeez, good to see you too B.' came the sarcastic reply and Carlos snorted in the casual tone it was delivered in. The little spunk reminded him a lot of Bruce.

Like father like son, he supposed 

'It's three PM. School's over so Alfie bought me here with him.' Carlos watched as he curled his arms tighter around the man's hips and hugged him again. 'I missed you.' 

A pleased smile grazed over his face and he lifted a hand to run it though the the child's curls. 'I missed you too, chum.' 

It was an adorable sight if he was being honest. And it made his heart wring in pain as he imagined his own daughter running up to him like that and hugging him like that and-

-that wouldn't happen for a while. He had to accept that because it was his fault that the distance between them existed. But he was going to fix this. He was going to work hard till he had the relationship he desired with his daughter.

Or at least he would work to at least make himself more of a solid presence in her life. Like Bruce had said on the flight, small steps till he reached his goal.

As if sensing his gaze, Bruce glanced up at him and cleared his throat before gently nudging the kid away. 'Dick, this is Carlos Peréz. He's my business partner.'

He rolled his eyes at the formal greeting as he held his hand out for the child to shake. 'It's nice meeting you, kid. Your Guardian's told me a lot about you.' his eyes glinted with humor as he sweetly asked, 'But he couldn't tell me what your favourite superhero was. Which was it again?'

The kid's eyes lit up and he grinned up at him, both of them ignoring Bruce's glare and irritated sigh. He grinned up at him innocently, feigning ignorance at his Guardian' annoyance as he answered, 'Hard to choose. But I think I like Superman the best. What about you?'

'Me?' he was taken aback by the question. He suppose he shouldn't be, kids tended to ask the randomest questions and had quite a lot of confidence, didn't they? 'Well, I'm going to choose Wonder woman. She has quite a lot of assets on her that I-'

'Okay.' Bruce interrupted loudly, reaching down to scoop the boy up into his arms and setting him on his hip as he glared at his friend andCarlos coughed into his fist, hiding a chuckle at the disgruntled look. A year or so ago, Bruce would have given him a disapproving smile but he supposed things had changed. 'We should get going, there are paps littered in the crowd.' 

He held a hand out and the two shook hands, Bruce giving him his familiar smile as he gently tucked his kids' head in his shoulder to shield him from the cameras that were being 'covertly' angled at them. 'Good luck, Carlos.' 

He swallowed thickly and nodded, ruffling Dick's hair as a goodbye before he stepped to the side and allowed the duo to make their exit. As he walked past, he heard the murmured conversation between the two.

'I'm glad you're back.'

'Mm.'

'I'm going with you next time.'

'We'll see.'

'Did you know that Spain invented chocolate? My teacher said-'

Despite himself, he couldn't help following their figures with his eyes as they left. He took in how relaxed the child was in Bruce's arm and how he was easily chattering away to him, the air around them comfortable and content. 

He turned to his bellboy and thanked him politely as he fished out his wallet to pay him, his mind wandering to his little girl who he hadn't seen in almost five months, and despite himself, he found himself growing excited. There was still that cowardly part of him that wanted to run away and hide like he had been doing for so long.

But...he wanted what Bruce and Dick had. He wanted his child to be excited and happy to see him, not surprised and slightly wary. He wanted his daughter to rush to the airport to see him right after school. He wanted to scoop his daughter up and hold her easily and chat with her and have her tell her she missed him and vise versa.

He wanted to make her feel safe enough and loved enough that she knew he would always come back to her, that he would always be there for her.

This....was not going to be easy. Carlos was a coward, he knew that. He was not against drinking and partying and using any form of short term pleasure to keep his mind from falling into the abyss and loneliness and desperation he felt.

Carlos had always wanted to be free from the guilt and pain that had wrecked him ever since he was eighteen, the pain that he had tried to avoid so as to not focus in how _lousy_ he was in putting in unending effort and love for his daughter. He still wanted to indulge himself into that.

But he also wanted to do the complete opposite. He wanted to do what his heart had really always desired, the yearn that he had kept numbed and locked away forever. He wanted to be a father. He wanted it. Badly.

And any doubts he had were erased as he glanced back at the far away figures of his friend and his kid, who was now crawling into an expensive looking car and still chattering. Even from afar, he could see the glow in his eyes, a sight that showered clearly how happy and safe he felt with his father.

He took a deep breath and walked over to the cab driver waiting for him and exchanged pleasantries, determined and scared.

He was going to do this.

He was going to put effort in.

He was going to try and be as good of a father as his friend was. 

He would try his damn hardest to follow the footsteps of a man who Dick do clearly adored and loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is purposely a character with tons of flaws. It is not me being ignorant to how bad of a father he is or his scathy remarks but I don't want all the characters to be good people with absolutely no huge flaw because that is just not realistic, thus why most of my OC will have some flaws that make them dislikable, such as Helen being nosy and Carlos being neglectful and a playboy. All this is done on purpose 
> 
> Yes, Bruce is a good father. And yes, he will urge you to be a good father to. Batman's not all about throwing thugs behind bars.
> 
> I'm sorry for the long wait I had a lot of stuff going on but I'm back now baby :D
> 
> Thank you for all the support guys! Really means a lot.


	5. Clark

Headaches were not something Clark was used to, what with being a powerful alien that could _literally_ do anything and had an incredibly fast metabolism. 

The only time he did get them was when he was attacked by kryptonite.

Which was a very big reason why he hated Kryptonite. And those who possessed it.

He groaned lowly and lifted a heavy arm to rub at his temples, scrunching his nose in disgust at the greasiness on his skin. He couldn't really remember what happened last night but he guessed taking a _shower_ had not been his top priority.

Forcing his eyes open, he squinted at- well, it wasn't exactly bright but it wasn't dark either. Forcing his limbs to move, he slowly propped himself up on to his elbows, relieved to find that he wasn't binded down. 

At least he knew he wasn't kidnapped or being held hostage. He still felt pretty shitty and he was really not in the mood to fight his way through evil scientist, power hungry gods or military generals secretly operating an underground laboratory which excelled in destroying metas.

Swinging his legs off the cot, he finally took notice of the fancy silver tray placed on the bedside table, complete with a fancy fruit ball and a fancy place with a croissant. He stared at the fancy engravings in the silver tray before looking outside the glass window, relieved when he saw the familiar equipment and vehicles. 

The batcave. Not the worst situation.

He sagged against the cot, waiting for his body to regain some more energy as he gazed at the cave, taking in the changes that had been made since he was last here. Since Bruce had revealed his identity to him, he usually met with him up at the manor and the few times he had visited the cave had been limited since his best friend had taken in Richard. 

Even now, he could see remnants of the boy sprawled around the area, ranging from colourful practice mats and gymnastic equipments laid out on the floor to toys and school books tossed on to the table that had previously held case files and battling equipments. 

Huh, Bruce would have kicked someone out of the watchtower straight into outer space if any of them disrupted the setting so carelessly. Looks like the rigid batman had a soft spot after all.

That didn't surprise him really. He'd seen the how well the two got along together, and he had to admit that they balanced each other well. But it would have been absurd if they hadn't gotten along. He'd only met Dick a handful of times but he was the sweetest, brightest and the cutest kid ever. The kid could melt the stoniest hearts of the hardest villains if he wanted to.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself to focus his hearing on the residents of the manor and after the few seconds, he finally got ahold of the whereabouts of the three residents and their activities. He could head Alfred's soft feet patter and the sound of boiling water. He focused harder until he heard Bruce's steady heartbeat and the sounds of cupboards and drawers opening and closing. And finally, he focused on the soft humming and energetic heartbeat of the youngest, recognising the song as a popular pop song that often played in metropolis cafes popular in teens.

How did the lyrics go again? Something about cars and shoulder tattoos. He was pretty sure there was something about stealing a mattress. Was that children appropriate? Wasn't the song about sex? He should tell Bruce to check the kid's search history....

He lay there for a while, listening to the hustle and bustle upstairs until he was startled out of his eavesdropping by Bruce's dry, _'If you're up, come upstairs and stop listening to my heart._

His eyes snapped open and he shot up to sit straight, a small shiver running through his body. Damn it, how did the man _do_ that? 

With a sigh, he forced himself up and dropped to the cold cave floor, scarfing down the food left for him at a wolf speed that would have made Ma cry. But he reasoned that he was only pigging out so as to not be rude to Alfred and make him think he was ungrateful for his thoughtfulness. 

Like he had once argued when he was a teenager, the respectful action cancelled out the disrespectful action, thus making it a neutral action. It was simple maths, really.

Ma had not been impressed with his analogy.

Onc he had swallowed the remains of the croissant, he picked the tray up to zoom upstairs, flying so as to avoid touching the cold floor. He grabbed a robe that was left on the chair on his way out, dragging it over his suit so as to follow Alfred's _no capes in the house_ rule.

He might be Superman but he was no arrogant idiot. No one crossed Alfred. No one. He doubted Darkside would dare to cross the elderly man.

He waited for the clock to shift out of its place to reveal the sitting room, stopping in front of the fire place to warm himself up a bit. He stared at the flames, admiring how it leapt out and licked delicately at the blackened wood. A minute later, he heard advancing foot steps and it was only from years of companionship that he recognized them as Bruce.

'You're awake.' Clark didn't turn around, instead waiting for the man to come stand next time him before he smiled and cheerfully answered, 'Good morning to you too.'

He didn't receive an answer but he did reach out to take the tray from Clark's hand, smirking slightly when Clark asked, 'How did you know I was up?'

'I saw you standing in front of my fireplace. I assumed you wouldn't be doing that unless you were conscious.'

'And people say you have no sense of humor.'

'Who says that?'

'Lots of people. And I meant how did you know I was listening in on your heart and that I had woken up? Did you invent some kind of new gadget that alerts you that someone is eavesdropping?'

'Yes, I invented it when I was fifteen. It's called paranoia.' Clark chuckled, finally turning to his friend who was dressed in a smart suit and tie. Probably heading off to work then. 'Seriously though....'

'I estimated that the drugs and after effects should wear off somewhere between 6 to 9 AM and I am aware of your problematic habit of listening in on my private life so I just kept repeating the mantra in my head every fifteen minutes.'

'....Dear god, Bruce.'

The man gave him a bemused look and opened his mouth but both the men were distracted by the sound of running feet and a loud, 'Bruce!' Clark winced at the yell, and rubbed his temples subtly as Dick rushed into the room, returning the child's bright smile. 

'Clark!' 

The mega groaned at the pain that shot through his temple at the excited yell but smiled weekly in greeting. Bruce glanced at him as Dick rushed up to them, placing a large hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezing gently. 'Inside voice, Dick.' 

'Oh.' he immediately lowered his voice, nodding in understanding as he gazed up at Clark. 'Sorry.'

'It's okay.' he reassured, dropping his hand back to his side and smiling at the child who was dressed in a fancy pressed white shirt and navy blue slacks. 'Getting ready for school?'

'Yup. Otherwise, you wouldn't catch me dead in this ugly shi-'

'Language.' Bruce interrupted in a warning tone, narrowing his eyes as Dick innocently finished, '-rt. Ugly shirt.' 

'Your shirt is fine. Go get the rest of your uniform on, we'll be late for school if we don't leave soon.'

'Well, that's kind of the problem I came to you with.' the kid turned to his guardian with what was possibly the most convincing angelic face Clark had ever seen. 'I can't find my blazer.'

'Dick-'

'- or my tie.'

Clark watched in amusement as the other pinched his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, recognising the action as a clear tell sign of his exasperation. 'We bought eight ties. How do you manage to turn up _tie-less_ every morning?'

'That's not a word, B.'

'That's what you chose to focus on?' the man asked, lifting his arm to check the expensive watch strapped on to his wrist. 'We still have twenty minutes before we have to leave. Check your room again and the study and I'll check the other rooms.' 

'Kaykay-'

'-and after school, we're discussing the functions of laundry baskets and closest and the importance of using them so as to avoid these kind of situations.'

'Wow, that sounds really fun.' Dick replied in mock enthusiasm. 'Unfortunately, I'm booked.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. I have detention.'

'You do? What did you do?'

'Nothing yet, but I'll pull something in school today to get detention.'

'Do you usually pre-plan this kind of stuff?'

'Only when you plan lectures for me.'

'Jesus-' Bruce muttered under his breath, checking his watch again and sighing. 'Okay, and now we have nineteen minutes. Go search for you clothes, we're on a schedule.'

'Aye aye sir.' the boy mock saluted before turning on his feet and running back upstairs. 'What grade is he in?'

'Fourth.'

'That's...young. They have ties in fourth grade?'

'Of course. They didn't in your school?' Clark had to surpress a grin at Bruce's genuine confusion. He didn't want to risk getting a kick to his knee for implying Bruce was an out of touch rich kid.

'Bruce, I didn't even have uniforms...'

'I wish Dick didn't have uniforms either. Every morning's a nightmare with how many times he loses his shoes or ties and then complains about how ugly and annoying the uniform is.'

'Speaking of that, need help finding it?' 

'Please.' 

He nodded and rolled his neck to get rid of the crick before glancing around the room. 'Er...what does it look like?'

Instead of answering, Bruce merely walked out the room which Clark had long ago inferred as a non verbal command to follow. They walked through the halls into the main room, where Bruce pointed at a framed photo perched on the decorative table. Clark zoomed closer and picked it up, smiling softly at the big grin that looked back in him. It was a nice picture, the neutral background complimenting the smart blue blazer and black tie. He distractedly called out, 'the uniform isn't that ugly' but when he got no response, he glanced behind him to realize that he was alone.

Well, no one could say that Bruce wasn't dedicated to his disappearing act. 

He placed the frame gently back on the table with a slightly annoyed sigh before zooming through the house, careful to keep his speed at a controllable pace so as to not to destroy or disrupt any of the decorations or rugs. Alfred would kill him.

Well, maybe not kill him but he'd give him a cold glare and passively aggressively refer to him as, 'Sir' rather then just 'Mr. Kent'. 

It might not seem as much but it was truly dangerous.

No child sized blazer or tie popped up in the other guest rooms or living rooms, though that didn't surprise him. He paused in a spare room on the first floor and sighed as he gazed out the window, distantly hearing Dick humming softly and him rummaging around his room. Though, he noticed the boy didn't seem to be moving around in a rush-

-he paused and squinted out the window, at the array of flowered pots on the sidewalk. There was something odd and out of place there-

-oh you gotta be kidding.

He chuckled in surprise as he nudged the window open and jumped out after checking the perimeter for any bystanders. He flew to the pots and crouched to pick up a carefully folded blazer, shaking it open and dusting it off. 

What a suspicious place to carelessly leave a blazer around. Especially when it was folded so perfectly.

He debated on confronting the boy directly or to go to Bruce and lie about where he found it. He had a feeling his friend wouldn't be too impressed with Dick's antics, especially not so early in the morning.

But then again, the kid couldn't go to school without his tie which he didn't have the energy to find that on his own so the only real option was to go to Bruce.

Shaking his head to hide his smile, he paved his face back into a serious expression so as to not agitate the man as he flew to Bruce's room, stopping near his bed and holding the blazer up in triumph.

Bruce glanced at it and nodded in gratitude as he went back to shifting through his closet and called, 'Where'd you find it?'

'You wouldn't believe it if I told you.'

'Try me.' 

'Stashed between your flower pots.'

'Hrm....he's getting more creative.'

'Wha-' Clark looked up from the blazer in surprise and stared at Bruce's back, which was diving even further into his closet. 'You knew from the start that he had hidden his clothes?'

'I suspected. I was hoping he was being genuine and had actually misplaced them instead of playing this game again but I suppose he could be doing worst things.'

'Like what?'

'Like jumping off the banister and hanging from chandeliers. Or sneaking out in flashy clothes to battle murderers and thugs behind my back and insisting I teach him how to be a child vigilante. Or purposely kicking me in the stomach in the morning because he wants me to convince Alfred to let him have McDonalds for breakfast.'

'But....he does all of that?'

'Mm.'

'Well, at least he keeps you young.'

'I disagree. You try coming back from parole and looking up to see your nine year old swinging two stories up on an expensive glass chandelier. I'm pretty sure you age at least six years during those seconds.'

Clark laughed, secretly impressed. Despite his exasperation, Clark could easily pick up on the easy _fondness_ in the other's voice. He glanced around the room, taking in yet more colourful objects that clearly didn't belong to the stoic dark knight. A forgotten teddy was tossed on to the arm chair and a pair of bright orange rolled up socks were peeking out from the laundry basket, out of place with the formal white shirts and black socks.

But what really caught his interest was that on Bruce's previously empty dresser, a framed photo of him and Dick dressed in smart suits stood proudly on the platform and Clark smiled at the beaming image. It had been a surprising change seeing the manor go from well put together and almost _dead_ like to colourful and lively, courtesy of the child who who currently jumping on his bed two doors away.

Dick had come into Bruce's life in horrible condition, but he'd bought life and colour along with him and he'd managed to wrench himself nicely into the billionaire's life. Everywhere Clark looked, every room, every hall, every _corner_ proudly declared Dick's existence and his role in his new family.

Dick had fit in so nicely with Bruce and had grown at such ease around him that it was difficult to think that just a few months ago, the two had no idea the other existed. 

An annoyed groan echoed through the room and Clark was pulled out of his thoughts to see his friend reaching up to the highest shelf in his cupboard and shifting the neatly stashed boxes around. To his amusement, he pulled out a small rolled up tie, letting it unfurl with a huff.

'That little-' he stopped himself before he could curse and Clark had to actually bite down on his lip to stop himself rom audibly laughing as the man nervously glanced at the door, as if afraid that Dick or Alfred might have caught his little slip up. He shook his head in amazement as he smoothened the tie with his fingers, rubbing out non existent creases and muttering under his breath about troublemakers, grey hair and _I wasn't this much of a rascal, was I?_

'How did he even get up there? That's pretty high up for the kid.' Clark mused, craning his neck to look at the shelf. He could reach it easily if he was standing up but Dick just about reached his head when he was _sitting_ down, there was no way he could have reached it himself. Maybe Alfred had helped? Clark couldn't really imagine the somber butler playing along in such childish antics but stranger things had happened.

Look at him. Look at Bruce. They were the epitome of strangeness.

'I'm going to guess he climbed up on my boxes and hung from my hanger holder before swinging up and hiding the tie. Apparently, all that money I spent for gym equipment for him was a waste.' he rubbed at his eyes tiredly before holding his arm out for the blazer, taking it delicately and shaking it open. 'I can't deal with that right now though. I have to get a wild nine year old to school. Dick!' 

He heard a responding yell before a flushed Dick appeared in the doorway, his button up shirt slightly crumpled and untucked and his previously gelled combed hair askew. 'Wassup B?'

Bruce stared down at the boy calmly, hiding the clothes behind his back as he asked, 'Find anything yet?'

Clark was impressed with how quickly Dick smoothened his expression into a faux concerned look. 'Nope. I've looked everywhere but no signs of any blazers or ties.' he shrugged, his eyes wide and reproachful. 'It's like they all vanished.'

Bruce hummed, nodding along with the boy in mock agreement. 'That is fishy.'

'Very.' Dick agreed, scratching his chin as his eyes glinted brightly. 'Looks like I'm not going to be able to go to school today. Mr. William said that anyone who shows up in incomplete uniform will face suspension.'

'That is unfortunate. But-' Bruce let his voice grow chippier and Clark actually had to surprress a choke of surprise at the tone. '-fortunately for us, that won't be a problem seeing as I found a pair of them.' He finally pulled the clothes out from behind his back and held them out to the child and Clark watch in amusement as Dick's face fell. He slowly reached up to take the offered fabrics, staring at them in barely hidden disdain. 

'Huh....'

'Huh indeed.' Bruce agreed, turning to the mirror to fix his already perfect tie. 'Go get ready chum. We have to get going soon.'

Dick sighed in defeat as he dropped the tie on the floor and grumpily pulled the blazer on. 'Where'd you find it?'

'Interestingly enough, your blazer was hidden amongst the flower pots and your tie was stashed into my top shelf. Any idea how they could have gotten there?' 

Dick smiled angelically, straightening his collar and propping the tie over his shoulders before stepping up to Bruce, lifting his chin for the elder to crouch down and knot his tie. 'I don't know B. Maybe you mistook my tie as yours and placed it in your closet?'

'You have a lot of nerve.' 

'No idea what you're talking about, big guy.' 

'Of course you don't.' Bruce nodded in mock understanding as he finished up knotting the tie and stood back to his full height. 'Now go fix your hair and then get your bag. We're leaving soon.'

Clark saw the exact minute that Dick found his new leverage.

'About that....'

Bruce narrowed his eyes and Clark noted how he definitely had more wrinkles then before. 'Richard John Grayson.'

'It's not my fault! I was doing my homework yesterday and then I got distracted before I finished packing up my bag. Alfred called me for a snack and I didn't want to keep him waiting, you taught me not to keep him waiting!'

'Jesus Christ, fine.' Bruce grumbled softly and glanced around the room. 'Where were you doing your homework? The study?'

'I can't seem to remember....'

'Dick, for the love of god-'

This was where Clark finally spoke up, butting into the conversation, 'Wait, green book with a beaker and big yellow letters in bubbly font?'

The duo quietened down and Dick watched him warily, his eyes switching from Bruce to clark before he slowly nodded. 'Yeah...'

'Well, I saw that downstairs in the cave. As well as a math book. I'm assuming that one is missing too.' 

Next to him, Bruce smirked at Dick's gobsmacked expression, growing smugger as the child finally accepted defeat and gronaed, shoulders sagging. 

'Well, that worked out perfectly. I'm going to assume for your sake that there are no more missing school equipments?'

Dick scowled at the floor before sulkily answering, 'No sir. I'll get the books.'

'Oh no you don't.' Bruce interrupted, already stepping out of the door to block his way. 'I don't need you staging an accident or deciding to experiment with any of the equipment and hurting yourself. _I'll_ get your books, you go to the kitchen and have your breakfast.'

Dick's face fell but he quickly closed his gaping mouth to glare at his guardian. 'I'm not hungry!'

'Too bad. You need your breakfast.'

'But-'

'Growing kids need their breakfast, kiddo.' Clark chimed in, deciding to help his best friend out. Dick looked between the two before he sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket. 'In fact, I'll run and get them for you Bruce.'

'Thank you Clark. I appreciate it.' He stepped up to the boy and picked him up, ignoring his gaping mouth. 'Let's go get breakfast, Dick.'

'You two can't just gang up on me! That's not fair, I stand no chance then!' 

'All's fair in life. If you want to cause trouble, you have to face the consequences. Now eat your eggs and drink your milk.'

'Noooooooo. No milkkk.'

'Dick-'

'No miiilllkkkk-' 

Clark laughed as he managed to run and gather the books and stash them into Dick's yellow school bag in under a minute, flicking the superman keychain before he stepped into the kitchen. 

Dick was slouched in his chair, glaring at the innocent glass of milk in front of him with pure hatred. Alfred and Bruce stood to the side, watching him in amusement.

'Drink your milk, Dick.

'No.'

'We're not leaving the kitchen until you finish your milk.'

'But it tastes horrible!' 

'It tastes fine. It's good for you.'

'Milk is disgusting. You drink it!'

'That's not going to happen. Drink it.'

'No.'

'We're not leaving till you do.'

'That's fine! We'll be late for school then and then I don't have to go and my plan - that I _definitely_ did not plan - will work! Win win situation!'

'Mm. Except that I don't care how long you take to drink your milk. Even if you spend three hours. I'll just take you to school then.'

'They won't let me in by then.'

'I'll work my way. And I can explain that the reason we're so late is because you refused to drink your milk.'

'Great, embarrassment and detention packed into one package. School can't get better.'

'But it does.' Clark didn't like the coy smile Bruce was giving the kid. He knew that smile. It was the same one batman gave to overly smug criminals in way over their head. 'Because if you get detention, you're grounded till next Monday and you can't use any of your electronics. Your choice if you want to prolong your suffering.'

Dick gaped at him before looking between the three adults as if trying to find help. Clark almost crumbled under the pleading gaze but he managed to remain stoic until Dick finally sighed and turned back to his milk.

'You guys are evil.' Dick grumbled as he began to chug the last glass of milk, ignoring Bruce's warnings to slow down but he did when Alfred calmly called out for him to do the same. He placed the half empty glass back down on the table and glared at them with a milk mustache, 'Evil.'

'Then you and I make a good team.' Bruce answered smoothly, reaching forward to ruffle his hair as he walked out the kitchen. 'Come in the garage when you're done. And hurry.'

Clark followed after the man, rubbing his eyes tiredly even as he grinned widely. That had been an....exciting morning, to say the least. Not many people could say they'd witnessed batman fathering a stubborn nine year old into drinking milk.

Clark was well aware of the level of trust Bruce placed in him and he was highly appreciative of it. Not only had he been the first leaguer to learn of the dark knight's identity, he'd also been the one who'd struck up a close friendship, one that he had never seen coming. After all, him and Bruce weren't exactly cut from the same cloth. The only real similarity they had amongst themselves was their determination and dedication to make the world a safer place. 

But they were friends. Good friends. And that had meant that unwillingly on Bruce's part, he'd become a part of Dick's life and he'd finally saw the man under the mask that Bruce had kept _buried_ for god knows how long. The same man that hurt children would cling to with the easy trust that many adults were unable to express to him. The same man who spent day and night working to better the life of the general people. 

Batman cared about the general public as a whole. Bruce wayne cared about _you._

Batman had ached for Richard's loss and had worked to put the murderer behind jail.

Bruce wayne had ached for Dick and had gone out of his way to better his life.

And he had done a good job. Despite Clark's initial doubts and arguments, Bruce was good for the boy and vice versa. Clark had (righteously) doubted the stability and genuineness of his friend when it had come to his knowledge that an _eight year old_ was not only aware of the existence of the Justice league, but also knew the personal lives and identities of each of the member. The doubt in Bruce's parenting skills had only increased when he'd found out that he was actually being trained to join batman, arguably the most violent (when need be) and scariest member, in his crime fighting journey.

He had briefly considered calling CPS and retaliating Bruce's night time activities so as to get them off their butts and get the child to a safer house. 

He hadn't of course. Partly because he knew that if Bruce wanted, he could easily get away from CPS and keep Dick with him and that he would simultaneously make Clark his first murder victim.

But mostly because he had seen their relationship up close, in a way Diana and Barry and Oliver or any other league hadn't yet. He'd heard the reasoning and has witnessed just how strong headed and stubborn the boy could be and he had reluctantly admitted that Bruce was right, Dick _would_ go out on his own and fight a losing war if Bruce didn't help. He'd been there the third and last time he'd ran away, after all.

After months, Clark had agreed with Bruce's views. That refusing the boy and scolding him weren't effective and that it was better to train him and make _himself_ conscious of Dick in the field so as to protect the boy. It was better then getting a call one day that his kid had been brutally murdered because he'd angrily lashed out at a group of thugs.

Dick had a darkness in him, one that was constantly simmering at the surface but was well hidden. Much like Bruce had, except Dick was actually finding an outlet for it. Bruce _was_ helping Dick, even if the rest of the Leaguers didn't see that yet.

Clark did wish they could see Batman in _this_ light though. The batman they knew was cold and stoic, untrusting and possibly unstable (Hal's words, not his). 

He wished they could see the batman that framed photos of his kid and ran around the house to indulge the boy's antics and gently scolded him for his misbehaviour and stubbornness and easily bickered with him. 

Batman was a good father. Clark had no doubts about that, hadn't for a while now. He clearly loved the boy and the boy adored him back and pretty much everything Bruce did now was within Dick's best interest, even if he didn't like it. 

Pa had told him once, after one of their rare fights, that a good father knows when to indulge his children and knows when to step back and stay firm. That a good father always did what was best for his children, and sacrificed anything required to keep them safe and happy. A good father was there for his children, even at moments that didn't seem as special when they're actually happening.

Clark doubted that either father or son would really view this morning as something special, something to be cherished. At least not yet. But in a few years, when Dick would reach the dreaded teen years, he had no doubt that Bruce would look back at this time with nostalgia.

He wanted to tell Bruce. That he was a good dad and that he was doing a fine job with Dick. 

He didn't though. He didn't want to risk upsetting the man, not today. Sometimes, Bruce accepted the compliment with a grunt. Sometimes he protested with a weak argument of not being the boy's father, merely his guardian. His reaction was always unpredictable.

If you asked Clark's humble opinion, that was cow dung. The duo were an odd pair of father and son, but they were that alright. 

He gave Bruce a small smile as he checked to make sure his robe was still tightly wrapped and not revealing his superman sign as he thanked the man, 'Hey, thanks for bringing me back here. I'll be on my way.'

'No you won't. You're still pretty injured and we need to go through some details from last night. They're is a chance that you might not be in control of yourself hundred percent and I rather that we run the required test rather then you going crazy and destroying a city again.'

'I'm not hanging around till you get back from work tonight.'

'I'll be back in forty minutes after dropping Dick. I don't have to go to work till then. If you're clear, you can leave if you want to.' 

'Look at you caring about me-'

'-keep going and I'll bring out the kryptonite stash in the cave.'

'Jeez, fine I-'

'I'm done!' a voice rung out and the door slammed as Dick rushed down the stairs, his bag swinging widely. Clark 'oomphed' lightly as Dick attacked his legs and grinned up at him as he hugged him. 'Will you be here for dinner?' 

'Uh... I don't know-'

'Please?'

Damn it, he wished he could punch Bruce's smug smile off his face. He hid a sigh as he hugged the boy back and reluctantly agreed.

'Okay...'

Looks like Bruce wasn't the only one soft for the kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house, we appreciate Bruce and Clark's friendship.
> 
> I don't have much to say since it's 6 am and I have online classes in an hour and I am severely sleep deprived. So I hope you guys liked it and thank you so so so so much for supporting me :-))))

**Author's Note:**

> I've had these ideas for a while but now that I've written it, it kinda feels stupid and underdeveloped. Oops.
> 
> I didn't mean to make Dick so uninvolved. He'll be more awake for the next few chapters bit all of these will really be outsider's view points on the dynamic duo.
> 
> I don't really know if I got Selina's character right. I have a love hate relationship with her but I hope I managed to catch some of her quip and coyness.
> 
> Thank you for reading this utter peace of trash :-) I'll hopefully update soon and not start feeling over whelmed by trying to balance two books at the same time because I'm an indecisive bitch.


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